


the clouds bow down to yearning love

by Teland



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Backstory, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Insecurity, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Pre-Series, Romance, Violence, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: "Perhaps my Kitos will keep me in his rooms? His good, big stables? You will need help to warm them this winter!""Your — oh." And perhaps it's time to admit to a few more things.Aramis grins and cups Kitos's face. "My Kitos likes this? Being claimed?" And he strokes Kitos's beard with both hands.Kitos shivers and — stares."You *do* like this. You will take me to your room and hold me and pet me and show me how *Musketeers* make love!"





	1. Oh, Kitos. You were doomed the *second* he looked like he needed a hug.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughtypixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtypixie/gifts), [mellyflori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyflori/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Some is mine, some is not. 
> 
> Spoilers/Timeline: Use of S3 canon for Aramis, but takes place pre-series. 
> 
> Author's Note: I don't know which story I was writing when I first decided that Aramis was constantly running off to pester the soldiers riding through his small town for stories (or 'stories') -- it may have been ["Better Your Dog Than Your Gentleman"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3895510) \-- but, obviously, it's been a running theme in my work. One day, while I was in the middle of the wild rush to finish what will probably always be ["Handies in the Woods"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9046916) to me, Pixie made the suggestion 'what if KITOS were the one riding through Aramis's hometown --'
> 
> There was more after that, but part of my brain was already writing that sweet, sweet, hardcore nurturing. 
> 
> Acknowledgments: Nothing gets done in a vacuum over here. Much love to Pixie, Melly, Spice, Houndstar, Greyandgold, Liz, and, of course, my Jack for audiencing, encouragement, helpful suggestions, and the occasional beating when I richly deserved it. I love you *all*.

It's never a good thing when Fearless is injured. 

Black clouds roll in out of absolutely bloody nowhere and thunder, hellfire and brimstone, and every-bloody-thing else rain down upon them all, really, and — 

And that's not saying anything about the *mouth* on him. 

But. 

*But* — 

Kitos doesn't have to deal with that right now. Doesn't — 

Well, all right, he'd *like* to be back in their camp just — just to *check* on their grumpy little arsehole — 

Poke and prod at him a little — 

Squeeze the stuffing out of him to make him grizzle and fuss and, yes, *prove* to Kitos that he's bloody well all *right* — 

Fearless had taken a nasty fall off his Éventreur in that last sortie against the Spanish. 

In *truth*, he'd been *shot*, but Kitos had gotten there in time to hide the sight of the shot oozing out of him and the wound closing from the other men. 

Fearless had bloody *winked* at him — 

("Thanks, brother —" 

"*Fearless* —" 

"I'll — I'll be fine —" 

"Bloody buggering —" 

"It was just. A nasty... knock. Uh. I'm losing. I'm going. To sleep...") 

And then his eyes had *flared* that hot blue that meant a *lot* of magic was happening at once — 

Éventreur had been whinnying and *stamping* — 

And then Fearless had lost consciousness. 

It had been all Kitos could do to keep Reynard from staging a one-man *campaign* against the Spanish right bloody there — 

Laurent had cursed *twice* when he'd seen the hole in Fearless's leathers — 

But, in the end, they'd carried the day. Messily. 

*Grimly*. 

*Viciously* — 

Kitos has known since he was a boy that war was never pretty, but... but. 

Fearless isn't only *Laurent's* special pet, whether he knows it or not. 

He's an arsehole, but he's the whole bloody *regiment's* arsehole, and everyone had wanted to know what was going on. What the *news* was. 

Which — 

Well, he was healing. 

Of course he was. 

The magic in him wouldn't have it any other way. 

But this wasn't a knock in a back-alley — or even a knife-slash. This was bloody *public*, and so Fearless — Jean-Armand du Peyrer de *Tréville* — had to stay *down*. 

And reports had to be made. 

And so, once Fearless was awake — and the black thunderclouds had rolled in, and he'd had to be moved out of the infirmary tent and into *Laurent's* tent because he was making too much noise and being too bloody *obvious*, besides — Laurent had taken him and Reynard aside, trusting to the booms and crashes of the artillery to cover their conversation. 

("Which of you will murder me in my cot *less* quickly if sent to Paris to make the reports?") 

Reynard had growled. 

Kitos had *tried* to look like he was making fists instead of simply twitching to *grab* — 

To *plead* — 

He'd failed. 

Laurent had smiled ruefully. ("You have my apologies, Kitos. I need Reynard focused on our mission — as much as is possible — and it's clear that all he would do is *pretend* to try to do his duties with the reports —"

"*Sir* —") 

Laurent had looked at Reynard. Just looked at him. 

Reynard had flushed hard, looking down. ("Je sais. I need — I need notre meneur."

"You are his weapon,") Laurent had said, equably. ("I had my suspicions that you would be when I took you on.") 

And Reynard had *blinked* at Laurent — 

They *both* had — 

And Laurent had smiled wryly and handed Kitos the case. ("Fast travel, brother. Farewell.")

And so... he's here. 

In a *tiny* little village near the border — nameless and sweet-smelling and still infinitely more cosmopolitan than where Kitos had been born — 

Some of the woods *here* have been hacked back for farms, after all — 

It's still light enough to get a few more miles under his and Hestia's belts, but they've been traveling for two days, and the *first* day they'd had to avoid the severely hacked-off Spanish populace.

*He's* not very tired, but he likes to give his Hestia a little bit more rest than that. So. The one inn in this nameless little village — and bless it for being clean and warm and full of the scents of good, hearty food. 

A nice, quiet table — all to himself. He doesn't much feel like explaining... anything about himself. To anyone. 

And that — 

Well, he used to be a friendlier person than that. More open, more willing to *share* himself with whomever was to hand. But years with mates — *brothers* — like Reynard, Laurent, and bloody *Fearless* — 

Well, they change a man, he supposes. 

He frowns, careful not to do it in either of the maids' directions. He — that was too cavalier a *conclusion* for a thought like that. Wasn't it? 

Shouldn't he be more upset about the fact that he's turning into as much of a tight-lipped, unfriendly bastard as Fearless and Reynard?

Not that Reynard is unfriendly with *women* — 

Or girls old enough to bounce on his *cock* — 

And of course, Fearless will always have his boys — though he sticks to flirting and such with the ones who don't actually *live on his properties*, these days. 

There *is* Amina to be considered. 

He and Reynard had expected her to put her foot down about all the whoring and... she hadn't. At all. 

She hadn't *had* to. 

All she'd *apparently* had to do was show Fearless what life *could* be like on the other side of the sheets, and — 

And he wouldn't put it that way. He'd say — and she would, too — that it was all about the binding on them, the way it had taken the bond that had existed between them from the very first *minute*, practically, and made it into something stronger than any steel, anywhere. 

Fearless stays home, when he can. 

And invites *them* home with him.

*All* of them. 

*Right* into the master suite. 

And that had gotten Laurent and his Marie-Angelique to start inviting them all places, and that — 

That's *enough* reason to be settled in yourself, isn't it? To be settled *with* yourself. To be *happy*. 

Because that's what he *is*. 

He doesn't need to be the same person he'd always been, before. 

He doesn't need to be the man who was always reaching out to every-bloody-body who even *looked* like they *might* reach back *someday* — 

("I love you, I love you, I've always bloody —" 

"Fearless — you — *fuck* —" 

"*Please*, I'm sorry, you have to tell me if this is too *much*, you have to stop me, you — I can *smell* you, smell how *hot* you are, and it's driving me *wild* —"

"Fuck —" 

"I — I — *Kitos*. I'm *sorry*. Just tell me I haven't — haven't ruined our —") 

And that had been enough to get Kitos moving. That had been too bloody *much*. 

He'd slammed Fearless against a *wall*, lifting him up off his feet and kissing hard, so *hard* — 

Fearless had been *shaking* — 

Cupping Kitos's face and then *yanking* his hands away again — 

Over and *over* — 

Kitos hadn't wanted to stop *kissing*, but — 

("Fearless. *Brother*. You can touch me bloody anywhere —" 

"HNH —" 

"Just let me. Let me have you *first*.") 

Kitos hadn't been able to move them. 

He hadn't been able to — 

He'd fingered Fearless wide open *right* up against that wall, using the pomade he'd planned to use with whatever whore would *have* him that night — 

Fearless had lost his *words*, crooning and barking and yipping and *howling* — 

Fearless had spent the *second* Kitos had started fucking him with three fingers —

Spent howling and tossing his head and shoving himself back and back — 

And Kitos hadn't been able to wait longer than that. 

He'd pushed in, slow as he could, *careful* as he could — 

And then Fearless had started *whining*, *fighting* the grip Kitos had on his hips — 

Kitos had let go *instinctively* — 

And Fearless had snarled and *slammed* himself back on Kitos's cock, gasping and grinning once he had it all, gasping and crooning and grinning in *triumph*. 

Kitos remembers telling Fearless to brace himself, remembers *growling* it out as he'd gripped one hip and wrapped his other arm around Fearless's *chest*. 

And then — 

And then everything in his memory is sweet heat, sweet friction, sweet and *belling* barks that just sounded like yes, over and over *yes*, and he'd spent buried so far up Fearless's arse that the man ought to have been able to taste him. 

They haven't had much time for play, during this little 'action'. This *continuation* of the haphazard, slapdash war their countries have been not-quite-fighting for too bloody long. 

They haven't had time for Fearless to shift into the dog and give Reynard what he needs when he needs it. 

They haven't had time for *Kitos* to bounce Reynard on his lap when *they've* needed it. 

They *really* haven't had time for Laurent to do bloody *anything*, though, with Fearless trapped in the man's tent, that'll *probably* change. 

And Reynard *will* find a way to make that work for him, too. 

Kitos laughs and picks up his ale — not anything stronger. He's *technically* working, and — 

"Oh! Your laugh!" 

Kitos blinks — and the next thing he knows, he's sharing a table with several of Fearless's happiest dreams. 

Chestnut hair in waves, golden skin, lean but obviously well-muscled even for a small boy — 

*Trigger*-calluses — 

A broad, *beaming* smile — 

And another two mugs of ale. Well, then. 

Maybe this village isn't that small?

Did he look like he was *looking*? 

What *does* his face look like when he's thinking about hauling his brothers' ashes?

Does he want to *know*? No, no, can't make his new friend wait — "Uh... lad —" 

"I am Aramis!" 

"*Really*?"

The boy — *Aramis*? — ducks his head... but only for a moment before he lifts it again, lifts his chin *high*. "I am Aramis when I am allowed to be who I wish to be!" 

Kitos *blinks* — 

Chalks another tally on the board of Fearless's stickiest dreams — 

And then leans in, smiles, and offers his hand. "Right you are, Aramis. I'm Kitos." 

Aramis clasps his *forearm* — 

Kitos chalks another *tally* — and clasps the boy's small forearm in return. And smiles helplessly. "You're fond of soldiers, aren't you, Aramis?" 

"Oh, yes! I always *run* here when there is a soldier passing through! And you are a *Musketeer*. I — will you tell me stories? Will you tell me everything there is to *know*?" 

Kitos blinks *again* — 

*Hesitantly* removes a tally or two — 

"I..." 

"No? Oh, please tell me! I will listen very quietly, I promise!" And Aramis nods. And leans in more. And — 

At this point, he's close to crawling across the table. 

At this point — 

Well, Kitos can bloody *ask*. "Would you answer a question first?" 

"Yes!" 

"Are you... looking for custom?" And Kitos raises his eyebrows. 

And Aramis blinks *rapidly* — but does *not* look confused in the slightest. Which is *fascinating*. 

That — "I don't mind, Aramis — it's been a long campaign — but... ah. You're really more my brother's type than mine." 

"Yes? Your brother fucks boys?" 

"*Especially* the mouthy ones." 

"I have not been mouthy, at all!" And that's an *affronted* look on that pretty face, which — 

"Something tells me you *can* be, though..." 

Aramis cocks his head to the side. "Would *you* like this better?" 

Kitos coughs. "Aramis —" 

"I am *not* 'looking for custom', Kitos. I was raised in a brothel in Paris, but my mother never allowed me to sell myself. I do not... know the ways of it. Much." 

Kitos blinks *again*. "How the bloody hell did you wind up *here*?" 

Aramis looks *away* — 

His whole *self* *darkens* — 

He looks *smaller* — 

And Kitos can't have that. He clears his throat — 

Aramis jumps and *stares* at him — 

"Fearless — the brother I mentioned — and I met when he was fourteen and I was close to turning fifteen. We were recruits in the regular Army —" 

"Oh! Tell me — tell me..." 

"Mm?"

Aramis licks his lips — 

Frowns thoughtfully down at the table — 

And then looks up. "Everything. Tell me everything." 

Kitos laughs hard. "Right you are, Aramis. We were recruits, and Laurent was in charge of us all. Now, Fearless and Laurent are both gentry —" 

"Does Fearless have a *name*?"

Kitos thinks, for a moment, about mentioning Aramis saying he would listen silently, just as a tease — 

He won't risk it. 

He smiles meanly, instead. "Jean-*Armand*." 

Aramis makes an *awful* face. "Is this what you *called* him before he earned the name Fearless?" 

"Absolutely not. We all called him Treville —" 

"Oh! His father earned the name through his prowess in battle!" 

Kitos blinks *again* — "You *were* raised in Paris." 

"I want to be a *soldier*, friend Kitos. I want — no, no, tell me more!" 

"Absolutely. Laurent was the first noble in charge of any given regiment's recruits to have the idea to tumble all the recruits together, regardless of class, so that we could all learn faster and better, like —" 

"Oh, yes? There were not many fights? Many... troubles?" 

"There were! At first. But Laurent was *brutal* with *that* kind of troublemaker. Said we all had a duty to King and country, and that when we acted up in that way, we were *defecating* on it —" 

"Not shitting? He did not say shitting?" 

"Like a soldier would, you mean?" And Kitos grins — 

"Yes!" 

"Laurent is *very* proper. Very correct — in most ways." 

Aramis frowns. "But he is still a good *soldier*? A good, hard man?" 

"The best, truly. He raised me and Fearless the rest of the way, and made us into the best men we ever could've been — even though he just wasn't that much older than us." 

"Even though he... but tell me more!" 

Kitos laughs again. "All right, all —" 

"And you have the best of laughs!" 

Kitos blinks. "I — thank you —" 

"Tell me!" 

"Laurent doesn't drink to excess, *never* whores, hardly *ever* curses, and has downright *rigid* self-control. But he's also a brilliant general — on the field and *off* —" 

"He takes care of his men? Men who are *not* rigidly-controlled?" 

"That he does, lad. He is a *firm* believer in the men getting to have all the *recreation* they need to have, as well as all the *training* they need to have. And —" 

"He does not care when his men recreate themselves with young boys?" 

"Fearless is his special pet, Aramis," Kitos says, and smiles gently. "Has been from the beginning — and that didn't change one *bit* when Fearless told him he was a buggerer. Mind you, Fearless *wouldn't* have been his special pet if the boys he went with were *too* young." 

"What is too young?"

"Too young to enjoy themselves. Too young to *choose* to enjoy themselves. Too young to *say* what they *like*," Kitos says, and raises his eyebrows. 

"Oh. Oh..." 

"Mm?"

"I must think about this!" 

"All right —" 

"Tell me more stories! What is *your* nickname?"

"Fearless and Laurent *mostly* call me by my name — or brother. *Reynard* calls me 'verrat'."

"*Are* you both a boar and a whale?" 

"You're a very well-read boy —" 

"Yes, I am," Aramis says, and waves that off as if it's nothing. "Answer! Please!" 

Fearless — at least the old Fearless — would already be plotting ways to get this boy to Paris *with* him. 

There are more than a few Musketeers who started their careers on Fearless's cock. 

Kitos has to be a bit more responsible than that. "I first heard the meaning of Kitos while I was chatting up some Greek sailors in a tavern, back when I was still Honoré, and still regular Army. I liked the sound of it. When Laurent started talking up the new regiment — and the Musketeers *were* new — and the men he'd hand-picked started puffing themselves up like peacocks and trying to figure out how they were going to outdo everyone else... well, the idea of changing our names came up. 

"Changing our names to *reflect* our new status. Our new and *elite* status — and brotherhood. Laurent was all for it, and started talking up ancient Greek history, and... well, Kitos came right back into my head. Especially since I'd always felt just about *as* graceful as a whale on land next to my brothers." And he smiles ruefully. "That's enough of that. I haven't told you about Reynard —" 

"They do not *respect* you?" 

"What? Who, Aramis?" 

"Your *brothers*! Do they make you feel like you are worth less than they are?" 

Kitos *coughs*. "*Aramis*." 

"*Do* they?" 

"Fuck, no! They..." Kitos shakes his head and leans in. "They're my loves, too, lad. And they show it *every* day."

"Then why *do* you feel less?"

"I —" 

"Do not say you do not!" 

"Aramis —" 

"You named yourself whale to mock yourself! And *not* in a good way!" 

Kitos beetles his brows — no, not that. 

Not that. That's what he does when he wants to throw people he doesn't much care for off the *trail* — whatever trail it happens to be — by making them think about how big and grim and fearsome-looking he can be, instead. 

He doesn't want that with Aramis. 

Not —

Not with a boy who can see through him this easily, this quickly, this *well*. 

He leans in again, instead — 

Aramis leans in *with* him — 

His eyes are wide and yellow-brown and — 

And Kitos is staring. 

He *stops* that, leaning back and laughing helplessly. Just — completely helplessly. 

"What? What is it?" 

"You're Fearless's *dream*, lad." 

"Call me by my *name* —" 

"Aramis. *Aramis*. I apologize. I know names are important," he says, and smiles. "And I feel less because I'm a foot taller and several stone heavier than the most beautiful people in my world. I'm a hell of a soldier, but they're all better than I am at *something*, *and* they're all better-read, *and* they're all a lot more *deft* than I am with... the little things. Conversations." 

"You are wise and good and beautiful!" 

Kitos *coughs* — 

"What do your *brothers* say? Mm?" 

That — Kitos blinks — 

("Verrat, mon verrat, I have dreamed of you *inside* me —" 

"Shit — oh, *shit*, fox-face —" 

"Si chaleureux, si gentil — mais — harder, you must — *merde* —" 

"Ride, you have to, you —" 

"Ahn — *ahn* — ah, oui! Oui!"

"*Fuck* —" 

"You — you have always *known* me, known everything — give me your powerful *cock*, verrat, let me — let me hold on to your beard and — ah, *oui* —") 

And — 

("Brother, we must speak.") 

And Laurent had come to him when he was watching Treville put one of his killer horses through her paces — something no one else much wanted to be in range of, just in *case*.

And — 

Just the fact that Laurent had called him 'brother' instead of by his name — 

Instead of by his *rank* — 

He'd been worried. 

("Oh, no — it isn't — well, I *hope* it isn't bad news." 

"*What* is the news?" 

"I... you know I've been working on getting the new regiment in place." 

"Day and night, yeah —" 

"It's done. I received Henri's approval this morning.") 

And Honoré couldn't help but *grin* — 

Clap Laurent's *shoulder* — 

Shake him a little in lieu of picking him up and hugging him — 

("I — Honoré." 

"Mm?" 

"When will you give me *your* approval?") 

And Honoré had *blinked* — 

Stared and — 

Tried to just — 

("I — of course I *approve*, brother —" 

"But will you *join* me? *Us*. Treville has said he will be with me for this —" 

"Right, of course —" 

"Will *you*? I — *we* — need you. The new *regiment* needs you, Honoré. And everything you can bring to it.") 

And Laurent had been — pleading. 

Honestly *pleading* — 

And it's not a good brother who forgets things like that. It's — 

It's a *berk* who forgets things like that. Kitos growls to himself and leans back, breathes, scrubs a hand down over his face — 

And then there is a boy on his lap. 

A — 

Well. 

It's Aramis, there haven't been any other mouthy, gorgeous boys showing up while he's been maundering and — 

And Aramis is hugging him. Hugging — 

Kitos has one response to that, and that's to back the chair up so they can be more comfortable, arrange Aramis so *he* can be more comfortable, seated side-saddle on his thigh, and hug him right back. 

"Oh! Your beard is *wonderful*!" 

At least, Kitos thinks that's what he'd said. It was a bit muffled. He's used to it, though, and — 

And he has to clear things up. 

"They do take care of me, you know." 

"Wh-what?" 

"They do let me know that they think I'm smart, and talented, and nice to look at — all of that. More. A *lot* more." 

Aramis pulls back enough to search Kitos's eyes — 

Aramis narrows *his* eyes — 

"They did not *always* take care of you." 

"We didn't always take care of each other. Ask Fearless sometime about the *years* he spent thinking I didn't want to touch him in *those* ways even a little," Kitos says, and smiles ruefully. 

"You *lied* to him? To your *brother*?" 

"Once. Just once. Because I didn't know the truth *fast* enough. I rejected him. And then I was a stupid coward who *did* know the truth... but was afraid to tell it and be rejected myself."

Aramis frowns at him. 

"We figured it out eventually, Aramis." 

"All of it? For all of you?" 

Kitos nods. "It took a lot of big, strange goings-on to make it all work, but we *did* get it to work. I promise." 

"And now you are waiting for the *old* wounds on your heart to heal." 

Kitos raises his eyebrows. 

"My mother, she explained such things to me. She said that wounds on the heart always take longer to heal than wounds on the *body*." 

"That is the absolute truth," Kitos says, and — decides to try. "You must miss her a lot." 

Aramis frowns again. "My father says I can never see her again," he says, to Kitos's beard. 

There are parts of Kitos that Fearless built. 

There are parts of Kitos that are designed for Fearless to *live* in. 

And, at this late date, there are parts of Kitos that just *are* Fearless. He fears those parts, sometimes, but he can't help but love them, too. Which is why he doesn't even try to stop himself from saying the words, "A boy ought to have his mother." 

Aramis says nothing. 

"A boy ought to have... a *big* family. A family to surround him and *crush* him with love —" 

"I had this thing! At — at Madame Margaud's!" 

Kitos nods. "That was the house where your mum worked?" 

"She is still there! My father, he *forced* my mother to give me up — she was so frightened! She said I did not have to go, but." And he looks down again, plucking at his trousers — he stops that. "I do not wish to talk about this." 

Kitos hugs Aramis again, squeezes him *tight* — 

"Oof!" 

He'll never, ever get tired of that. But. "Maybe, for now, you can tell me who — *other* than your father — would be *upset* by your *disappearance* from this little village." 

"Only the hedge-witch at the —" And Aramis gasps, looks up —

Searches Kitos *hungrily* —

Flushes *deeply* — "I can *learn* to be a whore, Kitos! I can learn *anything* —" 

"Wait, what?" 

"My skin, my arse, my thighs, they are a little scarred by my father's discipline —" 

Kitos *growls* —

"Oh, no, no, the scarring is very light, and if you have me on my back, they will never show —" 

"Fuck —" 

"Do you like that idea? Do I arouse you now? Or will you give me to your Fearless? I will pleasure him *mindless*, I swear to you —" 

"*Stop*. *Please*." 

Aramis grunts — and winces. And nods, looking down again. 

Kitos lifts his chin. "Hey," he says quietly. *Gently*. "There is exactly *one* thing you can do to make me even more ready *than I already am* to put you on a horse and take you to Paris with me." 

"Oh — *oh*. *What*?"

"Tell me where I can put my *hands* on the man who's been hurting you so badly that a boy like you — a boy who *believes* in family and in what family *should* be — would turn your back on him for the first likely prospect to ride into town." 

"You — you are *better* —" 

"Shh. Just tell me, little one, hey? I'll take care of this."

"Oh — but. He has *friends*, Kitos. In — in the *Church*. And the *gentry*." 

"The country gentry, most like. The Laurent I was telling you about is Laurent d'Achille de la Fère —" 

"*Oh* — the *comte*!" 

"Exactly so, little one. And we just *happen* to be in the middle of a dangerous action in Spanish territory —" 

"Tell me — I mean —" 

"I'll tell you everything. *Starting* with how it's *always* the job of the men sent out with messages to recruit — and recruit *aggressively* when needed." 

Aramis looks at him with wide, shining eyes. 

Kitos hums. "Now. I know you shoot —" 

"I am *excellent* with pistols and muskets, Kitos! I never miss my target, though I sometimes miss my *mark* with the pistol, which has rust damage." 

Kitos sighs. "And riding?" 

"Riding and hunting are the only good things about living here!" 

"And bladed —" 

"Paris is a dangerous place! Maman insisted I learn knives." 

"Have you *used* any of your blades?" 

"I have defended myself from footpads, Kitos! But I am only *certain* that *one* of them died." 

Kitos laughs hard — 

Aramis studies him more, eyes shining *bright* — 

And Kitos *has* to pull him in for another hug — 

And a kiss on the temple — 

His hair smells like horses and clean sweat, and, as far as Kitos is concerned, that's an excellent start. 

He pulls back and drinks off his ale — 

Aramis drinks off his own — *like* a soldier, licking his lips with relish when he's done — and snuggles in closer. "You will take me to your room now?" 

"Uh." 

"To... hold me more?" And there's a wicked, *wicked* smile in Aramis's voice. 

That — "Aramis —" 

"I like it when you call me 'little one', Kitos. You are so *big*." 

"That I am! And *you're* a wee thing —" 

"I am no thing!" 

"You're incredible, is what you are, and we need to —" 

"Cuddle...?" 

Kitos laughs. "I'll not deny you have my number there — oh." 

"Mm?" And Aramis is putting braids in Kitos's beard. He — 

"I..." 

"What is it?" 

"I — Amina does that. Fearless's wife. Our sister." 

"He is *married* and he still fucks *boys*?" 

Kitos laughs more. "Little one, ah... I'll be honest. When we all get together? Laurent and his Marie-Angelique, Fearless and his Amina, me and Reynard... well, it all gets a mite *confusing* at times as to which bit of flesh belongs to which *person*. If you catch my meaning." 

Aramis's jaw drops — 

Kitos grins and tickles his chin — 

Aramis *closes* his mouth — "He has *this* and he still fucks *boys*?"

Kitos throws his *head* back and laughs, because really — 

Aramis has a point. 

And a beautiful, warm, *admiring* smile when Kitos recovers enough to look at it. "Oh, you're a fine and likely lad." 

"So you *will* take me upstairs!"

"Or you could take *me* to your father's house... and then *we* can make some miles before sunset." And Kitos raises his eyebrows. 

Aramis's eyes widen again — 

He pauses in his braiding — 

His fingers are actually *shaking* a little — 

"That's right, little one. We can leave as soon as we like... just as soon as we take care of —" 

"Let me *please* you!" 

Kitos blinks — and frowns. "Little one —" 

"I know you do not care for boys, but I have watched many whores having sex. I know what to do! I can please you, and then — and then you will be relaxed and happy —" 

"Wait. What *didn't* you say, just then." And Kitos *looks* at Aramis. 

Aramis winces and shakes his head. 

Kitos cups his chin *gently*, and forces him to keep looking at him. "Tell me, little one. Tell me everything. We're going to be brothers, hey?"

Aramis *grunts* — 

Obviously *tries* to shake his head again — 

"Please —" 

"Brothers share themselves, little one. Brothers... when it's right? When everything goes the way it *should*? There aren't any lies. There aren't any lies of *omission*." 

Aramis swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long throat. "There is... there is honesty... always?" 

Kitos nods, and strokes Aramis's face with the fingertips of his other hand. 

He shivers — "I want... I want to give you... something. Something... valuable." 

Kitos inhales sharply and swallows, himself. "Aramis..." 

"My mother, she always said my virginity was precious. That I should not sell it cheaply — and I would not have done this! The brothels were offering very good prices for it! Better every day!" 

Kitos coughs — 

"But... you are offering me something much better than money, or fine clothes, or even books, Kitos," Aramis says, and looks down — as much as Kitos is letting him. "I do not think I will ever get a better price." 

"Little one..."

"I... do not have anything else of value —" 

Kitos hugs Aramis *tight*, and it's the usual struggle in moments like this — he *needs* to show Aramis how much he's *cared* for, but he also needs to not crush the life out of him. 

It *hurts* not to hug him as hard as he can, not to carry him to someplace dark and quiet and rock him to sleep, hold him close all night and into the next *day* — 

Pet him and stroke him and promise him everything sodding *warm* —

Aramis is squeezing him *back* —

If he could make just a *fraction* of the people in the world understand how valuable —

How rare — 

But — Aramis is shaking. 

Kitos has to let him breathe now. 

He does. He *does*. 

He pulls back — slightly — and pets Aramis while he gasps and slowly regains his proper colour. 

"I will never appreciate hugs from *anyone* else again after yours, Kitos!" 

Kitos laughs helplessly and *resists* the urge — no, he doesn't. He pulls Aramis right back in — 

"Uff —"

"You're valuable. You're rare. You're incredible. *With your clothes on*. On the vanishingly small possibility that we can't make a soldier out of you? There would still be *countless* places for a boy like you in the regiment. A regiment is a mobile *town*, and there are places for all kinds of people in a town, hey?" 

Aramis nods into his beard. 

"But you *will* be one of us. We'll train you ourselves. And." Kitos licks his lips. "And you *can* live with the other boys, in the boys' barracks, but. You don't have to."

Aramis stiffens — and then very deliberately relaxes himself. 

Kitos loosens his grip — 

And Aramis pulls back and looks up into his eyes. "What does this mean, Kitos?"

Kitos — takes a breath. 

And admits just a few things. 

Just — a few. He smiles wryly. "I keep rooms in the city. Former stables — nice, high ceilings. Fox-face — Reynard — also keeps rooms. Most of the time, though, we're staying with Fearless and Amina and their little ones. They have a boy about your age —" 

"He has *children* and he still fucks *boys*?" 

Kitos laughs — and winks at the sparkle in Aramis's beautiful eyes. "Little one, Fearless could be on his way *into* Heaven, and if there were a likely lad in front of him, pretty and mouthy and smart, he'd tell St. Peter to give him just a *few* minutes —" 

Aramis *splutters* — 

Kitos grins. "He really has settled down since he and Amina got together. I don't want to give you the wrong impression —" 

"Hmph. You would put me in — in the lion's den!" And Aramis crosses his arms over his chest — 

"Aw, little one, no —" 

"Perhaps my Kitos will keep me in his rooms? His good, big stables? You will need help to warm them this winter!" 

"Your — oh." And perhaps it's time to admit to a few more things. 

Aramis grins and cups Kitos's face. "My Kitos likes this? Being claimed?" And he strokes Kitos's beard with both hands. 

Kitos shivers and — stares. 

"You *do* like this. You will take me to your room and hold me and pet me and show me how *Musketeers* make love!" 

"Aramis, you don't — I don't want to be *paid* —" 

"Then I will not pay you. You will shower me with rich gifts and pleasure me until I must weep!"

And Aramis is *exactly* smart enough a boy to know how *much* a statement like that would... drive him. 

Make him need. 

Make him *hungry*. 

He's searching Kitos now, lips parted and eyes *excited*, eyes *thrilled* — 

Kitos *shudders*. "You have to let me take care of you, little one —" 

"Yes! I will!" 

"You have to let me take care of your *problems*." And Kitos *looks* at Aramis. 

And Aramis firms his mouth into a hard line and rests his small hands on Kitos's shoulders. 

"Tell me. Tell me what's wrong." 

"If... if you *cannot* get around my father... we would have still had this *afternoon*," Aramis says, and he's pleading, he's — pleading. 

And Kitos doesn't actually know whether now would be a good time to mention that he fully intends to drown Aramis's father in a horse trough if he kicks up even a *little* — hm.

"What? What is my Kitos thinking?" 

Kitos strokes Aramis cheeks with his thumbs... and then cups the hips he *knows* are scarred. 

"Oh — yes —" 

"Shh. How *popular* is your father, little one?" 

"Wh-what?" 

"How many people would miss him — truly *miss* him — were he to have a sudden, fatal accident?" 

Aramis stares at him for long, long moments —

Stares wide-eyed and *shocked* — 

Kitos wonders if he'd finally gone too *far* — 

If life with his brothers had corrupted him too much for decent company at *last* — 

"My Kitos..." 

"Aramis, I —" 

"You would do this? Just to have me?" And he sounds *wondering*. He sounds — 

Fuck. "Aramis, I do this every *day* to arseholes who don't know how to treat people smaller or weaker than they are —" 

Aramis throws his arms around Kitos's neck. "Take me *home*, my Kitos! No — take me to my *father's* house, so that I may *spit* on the *floor* and you may do what you *will*!"

Kitos's *idiot* cock *jerks* — 

And Aramis is more than close enough to feel it. He flushes — and purses his lips. "Though we could still go to your room first...?" 

Kitos *sweats* — no. He stands, squeezing Aramis one more time — 

"Oh yes —" 

Kissing Aramis's temple one more time — 

"Lower, my Kitos, *lower* —" 

And setting Aramis on his feet. 

"I —"

"C'mon, little one. It's time you met my Hestia."

Aramis takes his hand, giggles like an even *smaller* boy, and *yanks* him toward the stables.


	2. Fear is the mind-killer.

Aramis was duly impressed by Hestia's size and — 

Well, Fearless always wants to call it shit like 'bleak morass of the spirit', but *Kitos* knows that it's serenity. 

She'd responded *very* well to Aramis's coos and purrs and petting — and the dried apples and oats in his trouser pocket — and had only sighed a little when he'd set Aramis atop her. 

There isn't *really* room for two with Kitos on her, but they'll be fine until they can buy another horse, especially since Aramis's comfort *on* a horse is both obvious and *complete*. 

For now, it's absolutely another excuse to cuddle him, and try very hard to not get... more hard. 

Kitos sighs. 

"What? What is it, my Kitos?"

Kitos kisses the top of his head. "Just trying to keep the horse in my breeches under control, little one." 

"I am arousing you now? Tell me how!"

Kitos laughs. "So you can do more of whatever it is and drive me absolutely mad, you mean?"

"I..."

Kitos laughs *hard*. "Little one, I don't particularly want to meet your pustule of a father with a *club* in my trousers. I find mixing violence with sex a mite *confusing*." 

"Oh! Yes?" 

"*You* don't." 

"No! It is *very* arousing to best my enemies. You do not think so, my Kitos?"

Kitos kisses the top of Aramis's head again — 

"Tell me — oh, please tell me..."

And Kitos can tell that Aramis is doing his *best* to quiet himself so as not to upset Hestia. Which... 

Kitos gives him a squeeze — 

"Oof! Kitos —" 

"You don't have to quiet yourself overmuch, by the way, little one. My girl is used to *artillery*." 

"*Oh* — tell me —" 

"Everything...?" 

"Yes!" 

Kitos laughs and holds Aramis with one arm and the reins with his other hand. "What first, hm?" 

"What *aroused* you?" 

And — he did say there had to be honesty between brothers. And he'd *meant* it. "Just having you close, little one. Just... you smell good. Like horses and clean sweat." 

"I..." 

"You *feel* good, and — well, I didn't mention this before —" 

"What!" 

"I do *sometimes* go with boys, Aramis." 

"*Oh*. Are they very pretty? Very tall and strong and with good laughs, like you?" 

Kitos blinks more — 

"Tell me!" And there's a deeper degree of *urgency* in Aramis's voice — 

A stronger sense of *need* — Kitos can't let Aramis need... anything. Not for long. He strokes him. "I mostly went with the pretty boys who would *agree* to go with me, Aramis." 

"What." 

"I — there are a *lot* of brothels out there —" 

"I know this thing! What do you *mean* you — you did not pick and *choose*?" 

Kitos stares down at the top of Aramis's head. 

"Tell me!" 

"Aramis..." 

"You must — *why* did you not — I do not understand — what is your *type*?" 

Kitos licks his lips. "Which part of that should I answer —" 

"All of it!" 

"— first?" 

"I." Aramis pants. 

Kitos strokes him — 

Kisses him softly — 

Strokes him more — 

"My Kitos..." 

"I'm listening, little one." 

"My Kitos is very beautiful," Aramis says quietly. 

Kitos *coughs* — "Aramis —" 

"My Kitos will not speak yet." 

Kitos blinks — "I — I'm shutting it, but —" 

"My Kitos is strong and tall and wise and kind and good to children and horses. My Kitos is a *soldier*, with good, hard hands and a scent of leather and steel. My Kitos knows the meaning of brotherhood, and is willing to teach such things even to strange and needy and demanding young boys. My Kitos's beard is long and flowing and soft, and so is the rest of his hair. My Kitos's eyes are deep and dark and shining. My Kitos's laugh is big, thundering, massive! It shakes the world, and rumbles inside me. My Kitos's cock is *obviously* large, and I feel *strongly* that he knows how to *use* it —" 

"*Aramis* —" 

"I am not *finished* —"

"You... you... we hardly *know* each other —"

"My Kitos has not let this stop him with other boys —" 

"My *Aramis* knows that what he's asking for isn't a *dalliance*." 

And Aramis makes a soft, *hungry* sound — 

Kitos *thinks* about what he'd just said — 

And everything he'd meant by it. 

He hugs Aramis close. "Little one... there's a big, wide world out there —" 

"I know this thing! I have seen it!" 

"There's even more you *haven't* seen *yet* —" 

"And my Kitos will show me," Aramis says, and nods firmly. "I will be warm and safe at his side, and none shall stand against us." 

And, for a moment, all Kitos can do is breathe through the feel of his heart pounding — 

His mind *racing* — 

Fearless meeting Aramis — 

Fearless sweeping Aramis off his *feet* in seconds *flat* — 

Without bloody *trying*, because he never would, not with someone he knew Kitos cared for, but he's the bloody Pied Piper!

He's — 

But wouldn't Aramis love him? Wouldn't Aramis *have* to love him? Love everything about him, the way *Kitos* does, the way *everyone* who matters does — 

Everyone with a brain in their heads — 

And he'd fit right *into* Fearless's family — Porthos would make him his brother in an *eyeblink*, and — 

He'd never be lonely, he'd never be *hurt* — 

Amina would love how *sharp* — 

And Kitos realizes, with a hard, painful *shock* — 

"My Kitos...? What are you thinking?" 

Kitos squeezes his eyes shut — 

Hestia snorts unhappily — 

"My Kitos...? What is it?" 

"I... was thinking of losing you, little one," he says, almost honestly. 

"Oh — no —" 

"I was fearing it. *Dreading* it —" 

"You will *not* —" 

"Because sometimes... I don't trust people to know their own minds. About me," Kitos says, and tries to smile. 

And Aramis is *panting* again — 

Aramis is *growling* — 

Kitos has *reflexes* for that — 

"*I* think my Kitos *never* trusts people to know their own minds," Aramis says, and the anger in his voice is black as *pitch* — 

"Aramis —" 

"I think my Kitos is *always* expecting his loves to — to *leave* him, cold and *alone*." 

Kitos doesn't bloody *flinch* — 

"I think this is the *true* reason my Kitos still has rooms of his own, far *from* his loves —" 

"Not — not — ah, shit, Aramis," Kitos says, and laughs painfully. 

He can *feel* Aramis *waiting* for him. 

Waiting for him to come up with *something* —

He doesn't have anything, at all. 

He doesn't — 

"Who has left you, my Kitos?" 

"*No* one —" 

"No one?" 

"A wet nurse in Rouen got married to some other bloke. We were never serious. There were... some other women in other cities. You can't *be* serious about people outside the regiment —" 

"But your Fearless has his Amina and your *comte* has his Marie-Angelique —" 

"And they're practically on the front lines with us!" Kitos laughs again. "They're our *sisters*. Practically our *brothers*." 

Aramis turns enough to show him his frown. "Then... I do not understand." 

"Why I'm afraid of you leaving?" Kitos smiles ruefully. "You being beautiful and perfect and brilliant and funny and affectionate and good with horses —"

"My *Kitos* —"

"But I'm not *finished*," Kitos says, and grins — 

"I —" Aramis shakes his head and frowns *deeply*. 

Kitos kisses his cheek. "Fear is one of the first things you learn about as a soldier, little one. One of the first lessons you really take *in* — if you're at all successful. You learn that it lives in you, down deep, and that sometimes it takes over, and does the walking and talking and living — while the man in you is trapped in a dark corner of your mind, unable to get out. You learn that it doesn't actually matter if the fear is honourable — or rational, or even about something you'd be afraid of if you *weren't* losing your mind. You learn that, sometimes, the fear just *will* be everything, and that the only thing we can really do is try to be ready for it be over. 

"Try to be ready to walk and talk and live again — as the men we truly are," Kitos says, and sighs. "I... haven't been ready in a long time." 

Aramis makes a *hurt* sound. 

"So, what we're going to do, once I take care of the problem of your father, is take ourselves to Paris, where I have reports to make — and *you* have friends to make. *Family*." 

"My Kitos —" 

"We'll track down your mum first, of course — you've been without her much too long — but *after* that you have to enlist, and then... well. Then you need to decide where you're living —" 

"I already know this thing!" 

"— and *that* will be either with Marie-Angelique and her boys, or Amina and *her* brood. You and Porthos — her oldest — are going to get along like —" 

"My Kitos will listen to me right *now*!" 

Kitos *blinks* — "Aramis..." 

"You claimed me once. Are you so quick to take that back?" 

*No* — but — "I..." 

"Very well. You have walked and lived with fear for too long — instead of with love. I know this thing. I *see* this thing. Now? You will walk with *me*." 

*Fuck* — 

"I will care for you, and clean your weapons, and oil your leathers —" 

"*Aramis* —" 

"You will hold me close *all* night long *every* night, not only when I am not with some other lover —" 

Kitos *grunts* — 

"You will be the man you *are* with me, the man you always *should* be. I *will* not let fear *rule* you! And. And... you will not let fear rule me," Aramis says, *quietly*. 

Kitos focuses — 

Catches himself trying to *smell* what's wrong like *Fearless* would — 

No, no — he squeezes Aramis tight and kisses him again. "What is it, little one? What's wrong?" 

Aramis shrugs — as much as he can in Kitos's grip. "I have never tried to seduce anyone before. Not truly." 

Kitos *blinks* — and laughs hard. "You're doing a fine job of it!" 

"I always thought... I would start with *easier* targets..." 

Like Fearless? No, no — "Am I your target, then?" 

"Yes! I must take you and make you mine forever!" 

And Kitos's heart thunders. Just — "Not too many soldiers ride through this little village, then?" 

"Oh, there have been several! Not *Musketeers*, but many from the Army!" 

Kitos blinks. "And... you didn't... want them?" 

Another shrug, but this one is lighter. "I thought about it, my Kitos, but... I also thought of my mother. Her *wishes* for me. I did not want them *enough*." 

Kitos swallows hard.

He can feel himself flushing — 

He can feel himself getting *harder* again —

He's bloody *ridiculous* — 

He can't — 

"This pleases my Kitos," Aramis says, with an assurance he absolutely deserves. 

"Everything *about* you pleases me," Kitos says — only it comes out in a *hungry* growl — 

The kind that always ends with Fearless's arse in the air — 

The kind that makes *Aramis*... purr. 

*Shit*. 

Kitos catches himself looking for trees they can tie Hestia to — 

Places just far *enough* off the road —

"You must tell me what you are *thinking*, my Kitos!" 

"That my Aramis is already — deadly." 

Aramis gasps — 

Turns back to *blink* at him — 

And then *beams* like a much younger boy, small and sweet, beautiful, so *beautiful* — 

How could he *possibly* want — but. He does. 

He does, and Kitos can *have* — 

Kitos can make him *happy* — 

Kitos *will* make him happy, fuck, all night long. *Every* bloody night, and into the next day, and — 

"My Kitos... wishes to stop...?" 

Kitos — pants. "You deserve better than rocks digging into your back, little one." 

"My Kitos wants to take care of me," Aramis says thoughtfully. "To treat me... soft and sweet?" 

Kitos growls. "You're about to say you don't want or need that —" 

"I —" 

"But this..." Kitos licks his lips. "Soft and sweet from me isn't like soft and sweet from other men, little one. *My* little one." 

Aramis *grunts*. "It... no?" 

"I'm bigger. Stronger. Heavier. Everything about me is... more." 

"Yes! This is what I have been trying to say!" 

Kitos laughs hard and squeezes Aramis tight —

"Uff —" 

"You're so beautiful. You're so —" He growls. "I won't bore you, little one. But you have to let me... take my time." 

Aramis flushes. "Yes, my Kitos. But... I do not wish to bore *you*." 

Kitos laughs and squeezes him again. "You couldn't bore me if you were fast *asleep*, little one." 

"Why is this?" 

"Mm. I get to *hold* you when you're sleeping, and arrange you in my arms, or maybe on my chest and belly —" 

"Oh! I want this!" 

"Then we'll *have* it —" 

"My Kitos is *good* to his Aramis!" 

"My Aramis is a beautiful, shining day in the middle of winter." 

"What is this *winter*. I will burn it away!" 

"You're already doing it!" And Kitos laughs and guides Hestia down the turn-off Aramis points to. 

But...

Aramis is getting more tense by the moment. 

Aramis is *quiet*. 

They're close to the father's house, then. 

They...

Kitos kisses the top of his head again, strokes him more, and — yeah. "I didn't know *anything* about horses when I enlisted, you know." 

"I... no?" 

"Not at all, little one. I was born in the woods, far from anything *like* civilization. I was the eldest of twelve or thirteen children — I've long since lost count —" 

"*Oh* —" 

"And none of us could read or write, and we didn't know our figures to save our lives, either. There wasn't much food —" 

"How did you *grow*?" 

Kitos laughs *hard*. "*Woodcraft*, little one. I've always had a lot of it. Hunting — and fishing — to fill the larder. Poaching, really — and teaching the little ones how to do the same in ways that wouldn't get us all hanged." 

"Oh... oh, tell me more!" 

"Of course. Eventually, the little ones got bigger, and there just wasn't enough food no matter what we did — and believe me, I'd known all along to free the pregnant mothers from my traps and not eat the growing ones and such — and we had nothing much to trade to get more. I had to go out and get work. I wandered until I got to a town, and I did whatever odd-jobs I could find — mostly lifting and hauling, but I was apprenticed to a blacksmith for a time —" 

"Oh, yes? How did you find the work?" 

"*Hot*. Dangerous and *hot*. To this *day*, I hate being burned more than anything else," Kitos says, and laughs hard. "I'd rather be *stabbed* than have a tiny little burn!" 

"But... I..."

Oh... "I've secrets to tell you about Fearless and Amina and their children —" 

"I want to hear more about you!" 

"Secrets you *need* to know because they will *directly* impact your life —"

"But —" 

"— and because they're *why* I can be so cavalier about being *stabbed*," Kitos says, and laughs more. 

Aramis blinks at him — 

Frowns — 

"I — you may tell me." 

"Thank you *very* much, my pretty little Aramis —" 

"Oh —" 

"They're *witches*. And *shifters*. Did your hedge-witch teach you about that?" 

"I — *yes*! And my mother, she knows these things, as well!" 

"Really, now! I like her even more than I did!" 

"*What* do they shift into?" 

"Dogs. Great, big hunting hounds." 

"Oh. This makes sense." 

Kitos blinks — 

Thinks about it — 

No, he has no idea. "*Why* does that make sense?" 

"Your Fearless, he must stick his cock in every hole he sees. He was either a dog or a very troubled man." 

Kitos opens his mouth — 

Closes it — 

And laughs hard enough to make Hestia sigh *pointedly*. 

He pats her in apology. "Sorry about that, girl, but *you* know how ridiculous Fearless is." 

She whickers. 

"Exactly," Kitos says. "Now, where was I, little one?" 

"I..."

"Mm?" 

"You were telling me about your family, and making money, and —" 

"Wait, wait, don't you want to hear more about the witchcraft and all?" 

"Is it important for your tale, my Kitos?" 

Kitos licks his lips — "I..." 

And Aramis snuggles back against him. "Your Fearless, he *heals* you when you are injured, yes?" 

"Yes, and —" 

"And takes care of other little things? And not so little things?" 

"*Yes* —" 

"That is well. That is *good*. Now tell me more of my Kitos!" 

And Kitos... is having a very hard time taking a deep breath. Just — around his pounding *heart*. 

This — 

This is... 

"My Kitos? What is it?" 

Kitos *forces* himself to take a deep breath — 

"Oh, no, what is wrong?" 

"This — this is different. From everything I've had," he says, and feels plodding, stupid, dim, *slow* — 

"Different... and wrong? I will *fix* —" 

He squeezes Aramis — too tight, but — "Everything about you is perfect. Everything about you is — exactly what I need," Kitos says, and feels *naked* on top of everything else — 

But Aramis clings to his arm — 

Aramis tugs Kitos's hand to his face and kisses it all over — 

Aramis *rubs* his soft, smooth cheek against all of Kitos's *calluses* — 

And all chance of Kitos meeting Aramis's father with anything *but* a club in his trousers... goes. 

Well. 

He is who he is. 

He's been who he's *been*. 

He's absolutely done worse — *including* the murdering he plans to cap his day off with. 

He kisses Aramis's ear. 

"Mm — I belong to *you*, my Kitos!" 

"You're mine...?" He doesn't recognize his own voice. He doesn't — 

"Yes!" 

"All mine?" He doesn't *know* what he's — 

"Oh, my Kitos, I will never *leave* you!"

Kitos growls and strokes down Aramis's chest and belly, pausing to *cup* his cock through his trousers — 

"*Yes* —" 

— before stroking down his left thigh. "You'll let me keep you forever, little one?"

"Yes, yes, please, yes!"

He's never been this bloody *possessive*, but — "My Aramis. My beautiful, perfect..." He growls again — 

"Please, tell me what you *will*, my Kitos!" 

"Shh, just. Let me take care of *our* problem before we do anything else, little one." 

"But —" 

"It's important to do your *duty*, if you mean to be a soldier," he says, and keeps his voice hard. 

Aramis *moans* — "*Yes*, my Kitos! I will do as you say!"

Kitos hums and wonders just how far Aramis will want to take that — 

No, not yet. 

Not yet. "We're coming up on your father's property soon, aren't we." 

"Yes, my Kitos. He — he is named Julio Ortiz, though he goes by Jules on this side of the border —" 

"Shh. What does he think *you're* called." 

"Think — oh — I love you, my Kitos!" 

Kitos growls and squeezes Aramis tight — 

Holds him and kisses him and wishes for Fearless's powers to *bind* — 

He — 

He *nuzzles* his way to Aramis's blushing ear, and he kisses it, and he nips it — 

"I'm keeping you just as long as you let me, little one —" 

"No!" 

Kitos grunts — 

"You will keep me *forever*, no matter *what* I say or do!" 

Kitos *blinks* — 

"*You* must learn to *take* what is yours and *I* must learn discipline. This is *one* of the ways we will do it," Aramis says, and nods. 

For a long moment, Kitos is reasonably sure that all he is — all he has *left* — is a massive and aching erection —

"And... and he calls me Julián. You... if you wished to call me that..." 

"You're *Aramis*. You will *always* be Aramis. Anyone who says different will answer to *me*," Kitos says, and — he's growling again. 

And Aramis is beaming. "Yes, my Kitos. It will be as *you* say." 

And... he's not entirely mindless. He can recognize that he's been — expertly — maneuvered into taking control. Into taking both himself *and* Aramis in *hand*. 

He's *used* to that kind of thing from his family — from. 

From the *rest* of his family, because Aramis is a part of it now, because Aramis has *made* himself a part of it, because — 

Because you have to care to want to maneuver a man like that. You have to want him to own a piece of you, in all the best ways — or at least be willing to risk the chance that he *will* own a piece of you. And... 

Kitos doesn't think Aramis is all that reckless. 

Not about things like this.

He makes his choices after *thinking* about them — faster than Kitos can wrap his head around — and then he damned well *lives* with those choices, just like the strong, true, *brave* young man he is. 

He... 

Aramis had decided, sometime while Kitos was still *maundering*, that he wanted Kitos to *have* him, to hold him and keep him and *own* him. And then he'd set out to do everything he had to do to make that happen. 

Which really wasn't all that much. 

Which never *could* be all that much, not with a boy like this. 

*Including* every part of him which... needs guarantees. 

Kitos hums and smiles, squeezing Aramis tight again. 

"Yes? What is my Kitos thinking?" 

"About how you're my family now —" 

"*Oh* —" 

"And how your mum must have trained you *incredibly* well while she had you —" 

"I — yes, but —" 

"You *know* how to talk to a man, when you want to." 

Aramis blushes. "I — I have told you no *lies*, my Kitos!" 

Kitos squeezes him again. "Easy, little one. *My* little one. I know you haven't. I just also know you decided that you were going to have me, and you decided *how* you were going to have me —" 

"I —" 

"And then you made it *happen*."

Aramis winces. 

"Shh, don't think I'm scolding you, hey? I *like* this kind of behaviour. I *need* it. It tells me I'm — cared for —" 

"Loved, my Kitos! *Loved*!" 

Kitos growls. "Loved, then. Loved like I love *you*." 

"Oh, *please*!" 

"We're going to have *everything*, little one —" 

"All I want is you!" 

Kitos licks his lips. "I was wrong." 

"What? What were you wrong about?" 

"There are *good* ways to burn, little one. There are... I'm on fire for you." 

"Oh, I want to *ease* you!" 

"I promise you'll get your chance," Kitos says. "But. That fellow I spy coming around the back of the house —" 

Aramis growls — 

"Well enough, little one. Let *me* do the talking." 

"Yes, my Kitos. I will do this thing." 

They ride the rest of the way in silence, and — 

Julio/Jules Ortiz has little enough of his brilliant, beautiful son. 

Oh, Kitos is absolutely sure Aramis will get his height before all's said and done, and the man isn't exactly *bad* to look at...

But his hair is black, his eyes are a *bright* green, he's holding his face pinched with disapproval, and any muscle he may have once had is right down to bookish leanness. 

Boniness. 

A scholar? 

He'll ask Aramis when he feels like talking about the man again. 

For now, Kitos nods respectfully, gently urges Hestia to a halt — bless her, she was ready to walk right over the man — and dismounts. 

Aramis dismounts nimbly and silently, patting and praising Hestia — and not so much as sparing a word for his father. 

Well. Kitos *had* said to let him do the talking. 

"Monsieur Ortiz? I'm Lieutenant Kitos, of the King's Musketeers. We need to have a serious talk about your son," he says, and pulls on a grim expression. 

Ortiz narrows his eyes. "What has he done." 

"Come to our *attention*, Monsieur. As you know, we're *always* recruiting —" 

"No." 

"Monsieur —" 

"The answer is no. You will not take my son." 

Kitos lowers his brows. "Monsieur Ortiz. Perhaps you weren't *aware* that we were at *war*." 

Ortiz lifts his chin. "I am *aware* that my son runs off to pester soldiers every chance he *gets*. He seems to have finally found an easy mark."

Aramis tenses — but doesn't say a word. 

"I think you may want to reconsider how you choose to speak to me, Monsieur," Kitos says, low and very, very even. 

"Why? This isn't Paris and you have no *reach* here, *whale*. My son may have started his career as a catamite earlier — and more ambitiously — than I thought he would, but that's of no matter. He stays here, with me, to do with as I see *fit*. And you? Ride on." 

Kitos nods slowly. "You truly believe that."

"I have powerful friends —"

"Not in this yard, Monsieur," Kitos says, and smiles... sadly. He truly had hoped, with a small part of himself, to spare Aramis this. 

Instead... 

Instead, they're both watching as the blood drains from Ortiz's face — 

As he *realizes* just what had rode onto his property today. 

Kitos doesn't give him a chance to bolt. 

He grips him, just so, and snaps his neck. 

Aramis gasps as Ortiz slumps — 

Kitos doesn't let him hit the ground — yet. 

He carries the body to the apple trees he'd scented on the breeze... and there's a ladder and basket right there. 

Perfect. 

He lays Ortiz down at the foot of the ladder, arranges the body in something of a jumble, and overturns the half-full basket of apples. 

Aramis gasps again —

And there's a stony-faced older woman watching them from deep in the trees. 

Kitos has been around long enough to know power when it's looking him in the face, so he just raises his hands and backs away from his work. 

"Oh — Josette — this is Kitos, he is *helping* me!" 

The stone cracks into a *wry* smile. "I can *see* that, boy. What is he helping you *to*?" 

"I am going to be a Musketeer! Just like him!" 

Josette — and if she's *only* a hedge-witch, Kitos is as light as a bloody feather — gives Kitos a *hard* look for that, and Kitos leaves himself open for it. "You can ask me anything, Madame. As near as I can tell, you've been one of the few sources of *light* in Aramis's world." 

"And that's important to you." 

"That's the world to me," Kitos says, meaning it with — everything he is. 

"He is mine and I am *his*, Josette!" 

"Even though he just murdered your father and made it look like an accident?"

Aramis's expression is hard. "The Bible says we must honour our fathers and mothers. The Bible has *many* conflicting and otherwise *incorrect* lessons."

And Josette... cackles. "Oh, *Aramis*. You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you *say* that." 

"I —" 

"Shoo, go on, pack up your things and take the horse. Leave *most* of his money behind. I will tell everyone that the kindly soldier brought you home to discuss having you enlist, and then you found the body. The soldier — Kitos, you said? — decided that traveling sooner was better for young Julián's emotional health. But first he helped me bring the body inside and say the necessary prayers," she says, and *looks* at Kitos. 

Kitos hefts Ortiz's body again — gently. "Right you are, mum. Lead the way." 

"I have *never* been inside this house. I'm afraid our Aramis will have to do it," she says, and strokes his hair. 

"There is no hardship! This is the *last* time I will walk in this house," Aramis says, and leads them inside, and up the stairs, and down a short hall into a bedroom that's so spare it feels *bald*. Sterile. 

As lifeless as the body in his arms. 

Kitos is *afraid* to see what Aramis's room in this place looked like, but — he needs to know. 

He sets Ortiz down, props the pillow so his head doesn't loll overmuch, closes his eyes — 

Puts *coins* on his eyes — there. 

And Aramis is shivering. 

Kitos hugs him tight — and not incidentally blocks his view of the body. 

"Well?" Josette has her fists on her hips. "Let's get our Aramis packed up and ready to go!" 

"But — the prayers —" 

"Do I look like I know any *Christian* prayers? We'll call the bloody priest in for that." 

"I. I will. Say a prayer," Aramis says, quietly, and pushes away from Kitos. 

Kitos frowns and eyes him — 

Aramis smiles up at him with damp eyes. "All is well. I will be — the better man. I will do my duty." 

And Kitos just wants to pick him up and *run* next to Hestia all the way to Paris — 

But he can wait for his beauty to pray. 

He moves to the head of the bed, crosses himself, bows his head, and prays silently for several minutes. 

There are tears rolling down his cheeks by the end of it — 

But he comes right to Kitos, letting Kitos lift him into his arms and dab them away with his handkerchief. 

"My Kitos should not be so *permissive* —" 

"I'm an easy-going kind of man, little one —" 

"My Kitos should not — I am ruining my *beauty* —" 

"Your beauty shines from the inside *out*. Always." 

Aramis grunts — and clings to him, burying his face in Kitos's neck and crying silently. 

Kitos walks them through the house... and finds Josette in another bare room, this one with a *pallet* instead of a bed. Aramis's. She has a saddlebag, and it's half-full, and... there's not much else *to* add. 

The man had given his son... nothing. 

The clothes, at least, are good quality, and so are the shoes, but... 

But no toys, no games, no... joy. 

And a fat Bible for him to study day and night. 

Josette looks at him. 

Kitos looks back at her. 

Now there's a question. 

There's *room* in the bag for it. 

There's *plenty* of room in the bag for it. But... 

No. If he wants to lose it, they can sell it on the road and buy him a book of erotic poetry or somesuch. For now, into the bag it goes. 

And down the stairs and out into the air *they* go. 

Hestia's found the apples and is gorging herself — she'll be farting for days — but she's equable enough about coming away from her feast and heading for the Ortiz stable. 

Aramis loosens his grip as soon as they get close enough to smell the hay and manure, sniffling and wiping his eyes. "We... we will take... his horse?" 

"That's right, little one. Not his money, though. And I'm *paying* for the horse." 

"*Oh* —" 

"We're doing this the *right* way."

Aramis looks at him with wide, full eyes — 

"Honestly," Josette says, "He's *earned* the money." 

"*Very* true, but Aramis will be traveling in some very rarefied circles very soon, mum. I'd like as few shadowy marks on his record as possible."

Josette narrows her eyes like her heart is paining her a little, and — 

Kitos turns to Aramis. "Are you ready for me to set you down for a little while, little one?"

Aramis blinks — 

Turns to Josette — 

"Oh — yes!" And he *climbs* down Kitos's body — 

Kitos laughs hard — and watches Aramis fling himself at Josette, watches *her* hug the stuffing out of him — 

And tuck a little bundle of what look like plants and roots in his trouser pocket. 

"You be *safe*, boy," she says, and kisses his cheeks. 

"Yes, Josette —" 

"And remember what I taught you!" 

"I remember *everything* you've taught me! I will *always* remember!" 

And she smiles then, soft and trembling. Her eyes are wet. "Go on, then. Go and make this world *yours*." 

Aramis bites his lip — and then grins. "*Yes*, Josette." 

"Are you sure we can't at least ride you *closer* to the priest's house?" 

She waves a hand. "Too many people, too many questions. The man's a gossip — he couldn't stand to be anywhere but the *center* of town." 

"Right, I know the kind," Kitos says, and then doffs his hat and makes his best leg — 

Aramis *gasps* again — 

Kitos really is going to have to start keeping track of what exactly *gets* that reaction — 

Though he's a little afraid to — 

And Josette is cackling again. 

She flaps her handkerchief at them and walks off. 

And Aramis — 

Aramis takes his hand and leads them into the stable.

Solomon turns out to be a quite respectable bay. Older, but strong, healthy, and well-exercised. 

He loves all over Aramis when he comes close, whickering and lipping at his hair, resting his head on a giggling Aramis's shoulder —

And it's abundantly clear that the scars on Solomon's flanks have nothing whatsoever to do with *Aramis*, as opposed to the dead man upstairs. 

Solomon gives *him* a suspicious look — as well he might give to any adult male, at this point — but Kitos has dried fruit in *his* trouser pockets, and a lot of love to give. 

They pet and cosset Solomon together for a little while, then move to love up on Hestia, then get Solomon saddled up and ready to go. 

"There is an inn not far up the road to Paris, my Kitos," Aramis says, and he's still a little red around the eyes, but he's obviously much better after time with the horses. 

Kitos will remember that. 

"Not far, eh? I don't like riding Hestia at night if I don't have to, little one." 

"No, no, only five miles or so! I remember, from when we came down. I..." He smiles wryly as he mounts Solomon. "I was already plotting my *escape*." 

Kitos laughs and leads them out into the day, locking up the stables behind them before mounting Hestia — 

Who sighs — 

And immediately heads for the road to Paris. "Mm. I already miss you on my *lap*, little one." 

"I already miss *you*, my Kitos!" 

Kitos grins at — his boy. 

His perfect boy. 

"Then I'd guess we'd better make some miles."

Aramis beams at him. 

And doesn't look back. 

Not even once.


	3. Sometimes, there's nothing better than having responsibilities.

Kitos feels like the biggest deviant in *Creation* when he makes his reservation for one room, with one large bed, and also asks that their suppers be sent up to them instead of letting them eat in the *common* room — 

He tries reminding himself that Fearless does this literally all the bloody time, but — 

Fearless *is* the biggest deviant in Creation. 

That doesn't help. 

Aramis taking his *hand* helps — 

It helps any *number* of things — 

"My Kitos is rueful?" 

"That I am," he says, and leads them up the stairs. 

"Tell me why!" 

"As an aside — don't stop that. Don't *ever* stop that," Kitos says, and laughs. 

"What? Which? And tell me —" 

"Don't stop being *demanding*. Grab me by the beard and *yank* if I take too long —" 

"No, I will not do this." 

Kitos blinks and looks down at Aramis. "No, little one?" 

"No, my Kitos. Your beard is far too beautiful." 

Kitos smiles — helplessly. "I suppose you could yank on something *else*..." 

Aramis *beams* up at him — 

And Kitos pauses them on the steps to pick Aramis up and squeeze him. 

"Oh, yes!" 

And kiss his cheeks — 

"You are so close!" 

Kitos laughs and carries his lovely boy up the rest of the stairs, and down the hall to room four, and inside — 

There are four big basins of water on the hearth for them to wash up with, but Kitos thinks it might be a good idea to wait a bit before using them *thoroughly*. 

"You have not told me —" 

Kitos kisses Aramis again, this time on the mouth — 

"Mm! Mm — *mmmm*!" 

He makes it a good one. He makes it slow, hungry, sweet, *deep* — 

Aramis *clings* to him — 

And Kitos feels himself blushing, feels himself heating right up, feels himself *needing* — even more than he already did. 

This gorgeous *boy* —

This beautiful — 

And his. 

All his.

He kisses a little more deeply, just a little harder — 

Aramis is moaning and struggling to press closer, struggling to wrap his *legs* around Kitos — 

And that can only go one way, considering... everything. 

Kitos makes the kisses more shallow, and little sweeter — 

"Mm — please —" 

"Shh, little one. Not yet. We have to feed you, and wash a *little* of the road dust off." 

Aramis looks at him *incredulously* — 

And Kitos laughs and kisses him hard and brief. 

"*Mm* —" 

"You're going to let your Kitos take *care* of you. Aren't you." 

"I..." 

"*Aren't* you."

"My Kitos is turning very cruel, very mean —" 

Kitos laughs hard and sets his beautiful boy down — 

"Very — very *dark* —" 

"In answer to your earlier *question*..." And Kitos starts disarming himself. 

"Oh — yes! Tell me!" 

Kitos grins and winks. "I was rueful because I don't do *this*." 

"Do what?" 

"Pick up lovely little boys in small villages and drag them away with me, little one." 

"But you *do* recruit!" 

"Aye. And the recruits don't share my *bed*," Kitos says, setting his belts aside, and laughing more. 

"Are you... no. You do *not* regret your decision!" And Aramis *almost* makes that sound firm. 

Kitos growls and cups his lovely face. "Nothing could make me regret you — except for one thing." 

"What? What is this thing? I will *never* —" 

"If I was ever responsible for hurting you, little one. If I was ever responsible for..." He pants and licks his lips. "For taking the light out of your beautiful eyes." 

Aramis moans and *grips* Kitos's hand — 

Kisses it over and over despite all the sweat from being in gloves for hours — 

Drags his *face* over it again — 

"Oh, Aramis..." 

"My Kitos can take care of me just as he wishes! I will not complain!" 

"Not that, little one. I *want* you to complain." 

"What... what?" 

Kitos takes his hand back gently and continues to disarm — and pauses. They all carry extra daggers as a matter of course — Reynard made them all better at *using* them — but...

"My Kitos?" 

"You need a dagger, little one." 

"Yes! I do!" 

"Mine are too big for your pretty little hands, but..."

"Oh —" 

"We'll get that taken care of as soon as we can," he says, and sets his daggers aside. 

"*Yes*, Kitos, but tell me —" 

"I need you to tell me how to take care of you *perfectly*, little one —" 

"Just as you like!" 

Kitos adjusts his cock a little and laughs. 

"Yes? You see?" 

"I *see* that my little beauty is going to drive me mad every day for the rest of my *life*." 

"Yes! I will!" 

Kitos strips off his tunic and sets it aside. "But think of this, little one. Little beauty. Little — fuck, you're so bloody perfect!" And Kitos laughs helplessly, gazing down at Aramis because the alternative is absolutely impossible. 

Aramis is *beaming* up at him — 

And Kitos — can think. A bit. He unlaces his shirt just a little, then sits to get rid of his boots and socks. He gestures Aramis to do the same — 

"Yes, my Kitos!" 

"Good boy. Now, here it is. I've *had* 'just as I like'. From *whores*." 

"I." 

"You're not that. You're my love. You're my *boy*. You're my *brother*. That means that your pleasure — your *happiness* — is just as important as mine." And Kitos wiggles his toes a bit — 

"Oh! Even your *feet* are furry!" 

Kitos laughs. "*All* of me is furry, little beauty —" 

"I like that name!" 

"I — hm. I suppose I did start —" 

"Do not stop coming up with names for your boy!" And Aramis climbs onto Kitos's lap — 

Wraps his arms round Kitos's neck — 

Smiles and smiles and —

"Oh, little beauty, you are *distracting*," Kitos says, and laughs more — 

"*Good*! Please touch me more!" 

"We have to have supper *first*," Kitos says, and wags a finger — 

Aramis frowns direfully. 

"Look at it *this* way: if you feed me now? We won't be interrupted by my belly growling and roaring because I haven't given it its due since —" 

"Oh — *oh* — I didn't let you get your dinner! I am so sorry!" And Aramis immediately tries to scramble and wriggle off Kitos's lap — 

Kitos holds him tight — 

"No, no —" 

"Hush now, beauty — you did nothing wrong. And you gave me something a lot better than dinner," Kitos says, and gives Aramis a *hard* look. 

"But —" 

"No buts!" 

"But I have to take *care* of you, my Kitos!" 

"And I have to take care of *you*. But we won't know how to do that perfectly right away, hey? We have to teach other. You've already taught me that you need to not *wait* so long for things... right?" 

"I..." Aramis flushes and ducks his head. 

Kitos lifts his head by the chin. "Right, little beauty?" 

"Yes, my Kitos. I — I am very bad at being patient." 

"And maybe your little cock has been aching?" 

"Nnh — I — I want to touch *your* aching cock!" 

Kitos laughs. "You will! But mm. You want to please me, don't you...?" 

"*Yes*, my Kitos!"

And Kitos feels himself flushing again. 

Feels himself — 

He's only played these games with whores — and that's just it. They were *games*. 

They weren't *real*. 

All Kitos needs to do is look into Aramis's beautiful yellow-brown eyes to know this is seriously, perfectly, *utterly* real. 

So. 

He'll make it right for both of them. "You can please me by telling me *exactly* how you want to spend first, little beauty —" 

"I —" 

"Wait, wait, now," Kitos says, and grins. "I'm going to give you *choices*." 

"Oh. Oh... I... will choose from a list?" 

"That's right, little beauty. A *short* list, because we don't have much time before our supper will be here —"

"Anything —" 

"*And*, because you're my *best* little beauty, you'll pick exactly what sounds most perfect to you. A man's got to take care of his boy." 

Aramis moans. "I — I — yes, my Kitos. I will choose! Please give me the list!" 

Kitos strokes his face. "If you don't like *anything* on the list right now," he says, and keeps his voice low and serious, "remember that there are more choices, and that we can come *back* to this list later." 

Aramis nods *impatiently* — 

Scoots closer — 

Grips his *neck* — "Give me the list! Let me choose! Let me be all you wish me to be!" 

Kitos growls and cups Aramis's hips again. "*One*. I stroke your pretty cock —" 

"You do not know it is pretty!" 

"It's yours, so it is, now *listen*." 

Aramis giggles and kisses him, soft and brief. "Yes, my Kitos! You stroke my pretty cock! I like this! What else?"

Kitos licks his lips — 

*Stares* — 

Tries to remember — no, no. "Two, you let me grind you in *against* my cock. You'll get to feel more of my hair —" 

"This! I want this!" And Aramis reaches down and works on the laces of Kitos's trousers immediately. 

Kitos laughs. "*Three* —" 

"No, no, no —" 

"I hold you against the wall —" 

"Oh." 

"— and I *thrust* against you."

Aramis's deft little fingers *pause* on the laces — "You would do this?" 

"*Happily* —" 

"No, I. You would do this and then *stop* making love to me to *eat*?" 

Kitos laughs hard. "With *difficulty*, little beauty — but you learn to do necessary things before pleasurable things in the military. And..." 

"Yes? Yes?" 

Kitos strokes down the center of Aramis's chest with one finger, not as gently as he could —

Aramis bucks before Kitos reaches his belly-button. 

"Something tells me my little beauty won't last long... this time." 

Aramis *moans* — 

Flushes *deeply* — 

And obviously *tries* to go back to opening Kitos's laces, but can't. "Please — I cannot — I am *sorry* —" 

"Shh, shh. All you have to do is tell me if you *definitely* want me to thrust against you —" 

"Yes! *Please*!" 

"Good boy," Kitos says, and finishes opening his trousers and breeches one-handed — 

Works on Aramis's with the *other* hand — 

It's a trick Fearless had taught them all *joyously* when they'd all begun, and it had made things right convenient when Kitos had Reynard or Fearless tied to something sturdy — 

Now — 

Now, he has a little beauty who needs him. 

A little beauty with a *gorgeous* little cock — 

Slick and slim and just a bit curved... 

Kitos licks his lips...

Lifts out Aramis's tidy little bollocks-sac, too...

"Oh... oh, my Kitos, do you *like*?" 

"I want to touch you all day and night, little beauty. You're *perfect*," Kitos says, and pushes Aramis's cock up to his belly — 

"Ah!" 

"Oh, look at this little birthmark... later, I'll give it a nice, wet kiss." 

"*Please*!" 

"Up we come," Kitos says, lifting Aramis with him as he stands — 

Walking him to the nearest wall — and holding him there, right there, with one hand on his chest. 

Aramis takes a *stifled* gasp and stares up at him with *wide* eyes — 

"All right, little beauty?" 

He nods and nods, cock jerking and twitching — 

"Perfect. Perfect. I'm giving you my weight now, and I'm going to be careful, but my little beauty has to *feel* me —" 

"*Yes*!" 

"— so I won't be *too* careful. That means you have to tell me if you can't catch a breath, at *all*." 

"Oh — oh, my Kitos! Please! Please do —" 

Kitos growls and *crushes* Aramis against the wall —

"UNF — oh — *fuck* —" 

"Is that so...?" 

"My Kitos — my Kitos is beautiful! Huge! Perfect!" 

Kitos growls and thrusts — 

"HNGH —" 

"You like that, beauty?"

"Yes — *yes* — please oh —"

Kitos thrusts twice, just a little fast, just a little incautiously — 

"My Kitos I cannot think!" 

"But you have plenty of air, little beauty, so I can do *this*," Kitos says, and presses just a little harder with his belly — 

"Uff — *yes*! YES!" 

And thrusts — 

"My Kitos — my — my —" 

And thrusts *hard* — 

And Aramis throws his head back and groans — 

Scrabbles at Kitos's shirt — 

Tries to wrap his legs round Kitos — 

Kitos gives him the fast thrusts again, the — 

Not so hard, but not so *careful* — 

Not *hard*, he needs his beauty tonight — 

All night. 

And Aramis is just — 

"Please — please please *please*!" 

"What is it, little beauty, mm? What do you need?" 

"Please, this is — I do not wish to *spend* — crush me *more*!" 

Kitos growls and gives him a little more weight, looms more, *crowds* — 

"Oh — *fuck*," Aramis says, and that was a desperate whine — 

He's *clawing* at Kitos's shirt — 

Shaking and *flushed* — 

Kitos gives him another *hard* thrust — 

Aramis's jaw drops, and his eyes haze over — 

Oh, even willpower won't save him now — 

Kitos *grinds* — 

And *grinds* — 

"My — my —" And Aramis wails, loud and helpless, blushing and *wild* — 

So high and *young* — 

Kitos can't *stop* grinding — 

No, he has to thrust, has to — 

He's *giving* it to his boy, his beautiful boy — 

Aramis is spending all *over* Kitos's cock and bollocks — 

Aramis is spurting hot and sweet and — 

He smells so *wonderful* — 

Kitos can't *stop* — 

He — 

"Aramis — *Aramis* —" 

He wails *again* — 

Spurts *more* — 

Kitos thrusts too *hard* — 

"*Yes*!"

And that was a little quiet, a little — 

Aramis is running out of air — 

Kitos has to be careful, so careful, take care of his beautiful boy, take care of him every day and night for *all* their days — 

Keep him safe and strong and — 

So *secure* — 

And Kitos is groaning and trembling, thrusting so fast while Aramis clings and sobs and *pants* — 

It's bloody *impossible* to stop, but he can back up just a little, let his beauty gasp, give him his cock and a little less of his belly — 

And then Aramis looks up — 

Aramis *pleads* into Kitos's *eyes* — 

Kitos feels his spine *ignite* — 

Feels everything in him go tight and hot and wild and — 

Yes — 

*Yes* — 

Kitos pushes *close* — 

Aramis *beams* — 

And Kitos groans and growls and spends himself all over his boy, all over his beauty, all over — 

Ah, shit, he really had thought he could *wait*!

Instead, he's fucking into his own spend, grinding it in, plastering them together while they pant and grunt and Aramis *whispers* '*yes*' over and over again — 

*Again* — 

So good — 

Kitos growls again — 

Grinds *more* — 

Aramis's little knuckles are *digging* into his chest as he *clings* — no. 

Kitos carries him to the bed and lays him down, strips him down — 

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" 

"We're still going to eat," Kitos says — 

"No!" 

"You're just going to do it naked on my lap. We'll pretend we're in some decadent Eastern court, hey?" 

"Oh! My Kitos likes games like this?" 

Kitos picks up a somewhat threadbare linen and goes to dip it in the warm water. "Your Kitos likes all *sorts* of games, little beauty, but mostly he likes *you*, and everything he can possibly have *with* you." And he starts wiping Aramis down gently and carefully. 

"My Kitos will wash me clean all the time?" 

Kitos hums, being especially careful around that still-hard little cock. "I'm going to do it every chance I *get*." 

Aramis shivers. "You like this? Not just *having* me clean?"

Kitos looks into Aramis's eyes. "I crave it. I *need* it." 

Aramis moans and *sprawls* out. 

Kitos *grins*. "*Good* boy —" 

But there's a knock on the door. Their dinner. 

"Wait one moment, little beauty," Kitos says, and does an *extremely* cursory job of wiping down his leathers after doing them back up again. He takes Aramis's clothes to be cleaned by the staff, retrieves their supper, tips the saucy-eyed maid generously, and returns to find Aramis wriggling on his back on the big bed and smiling. 

"Uncomfortable, little beauty?" 

"*Very* comfortable, my Kitos! This is like the bed I had at Madame Margaud's with my mother! Later, I had my own bed, but it was smaller and softer." 

That... "My own bed is hard..." 

"This is well; I will sleep on my Kitos when I need cushion. Please, care for me more!" 

Kitos laughs hard and warms the linen again. "Right you are, little beauty. I'm not washing you thoroughly now — just enough that we can be comfortable while we eat." 

"As you *say*, my Kitos. Though..." 

"Mm?" Kitos looks up from gently wiping the road-dust from Aramis's long throat. 

Aramis grins. "I think I could be *very* comfortable cuddled with you and warm and slick with sweat and spend, my Kitos..." And that is a *very* seductive look, and under *any* other circumstances it would work *very* well... 

Kitos laughs a little *gently* and shakes his head. 

"No? Why not!" 

And then he stands up straight and strips out of the rest of his clothes. 

"Ohh... I want to rub myself all *over* you!" 

"We'll *both* have a lot more fun with that with *less* drying spend in all this fur, little beauty," Kitos says, and strokes up through his — rapidly-matting — belly-hair with a grimace. 

Aramis blinks twice — "My Kitos! You must wash yourself before the drying spend *hurts* you!" 

"We have a little time. Here, let me get behind those adorable little ears." 

"I —" Aramis giggles. "You are a very dirty man, my Kitos." 

Kitos grins — and blushes. "You just noticed?" He turns Aramis's head to wash the back of his neck — 

"I think you want a young boy to *parent*, just a *little*."

Kitos's hands twitch — 

Aramis *looks* at them — and then at him, from under his long lashes. It's *not* a hungry look — it's a thoughtful one.

Kitos licks his lips. "Nothing you don't want. Everything you don't want is for *other* bloody people." 

"Even if my Kitos wants it? Needs it?" 

"I need *you*, little beauty. I need you *happy*. If I ever touched you and you didn't want it? In any way, for any reason? I'd feel like the worst man in the world." 

Aramis *nods* thoughtfully. "This is as I thought." 

"Yeah?"

He grins again and snatches the linen from Kitos's hand — 

"Hey —" 

— and then scrambles off the bed and runs to the basin Kitos was using to rinse and warm it. "It is my *Kitos's* turn to be washed and cared for, as a proper boy should!" 

Kitos laughs. "Oh, *is* it?" 

"Yes!" And Aramis jogs close, graceful and quick, and begins washing Kitos's belly, careful and gentle and thorough. 

Kitos pets him while he does it — 

Kitos pets him and tries not to drip too much more new slick on him — 

Kitos gives up and hugs him. 

"*Oof* — I love your fur!" 

"My fur loves *you* —" 

"Let me *finish*!" 

Kitos laughs and squeezes a *little* tighter —

"Uffrr —" 

— and then lets go. 

Aramis immediately plants a line of kisses *across* Kitos's belly — 

Kitos laughs *more* — 

Aramis *beams* at him — and then hums a fast, happy-sounding melody and keeps washing Kitos's belly. 

Kitos sighs. "What's that song, little beauty?" 

"It is one of my mother's songs, from *her* people. I do not know the name. She never told me." 

Kitos pushes the waves of Aramis's hair back behind his left ear. "Who are her people?" 

Aramis stiffens for a moment — 

*Studies* him — 

"Rom. Spanish Rom." And then he *obviously* waits for Kitos to say something — 

Wrong. Kitos strokes his hair. "Was it hard for her? Leaving her people to come to Paris?" 

Aramis searches him. 

Kitos smiles gently. "That's something else Laurent didn't tolerate in his men, you know. Pointless... hatreds. Being an arsehole for no goddamned *reason*. Some of us had a lot to learn in that respect, some of us had less. Fearless's dad was a common soldier who rose through the ranks, and raised his son to hate pretty much no one without *reason* — except for the Spanish, the British, the gentry, and the priests. He taught me a lot about how to see the world before Laurent *had* to... and, well, we both know your mum's people get treated like dirt by the rest of the Spanish, hey?" 

Aramis swallows. And nods, once. 

"One more thing that might help, a little? Amina, Fearless's wife — and our *sister* — is a woman of colour —"

"*Oh*." 

"Yeah?" 

Aramis looks *slightly* away, eyes tracking fast. 

Kitos keeps petting — no. He picks Aramis up in his arms and carries them to the hearth — 

Aramis drops the linen in the basin — 

And then Kitos carries his little beauty to the table and sits down with him side-saddle on his lap. 

After a moment, Aramis rests a hand on his belly. 

Kitos covers it with his own. "Tell me, little beauty. Tell me everything. Anything." 

"My mother, she always says... that I will get better, with time." 

"Mm?" 

"That my *mind* will improve. My ability to *choose* things and people for myself..." 

Kitos's heart beats faster — 

He squeezes Aramis's hand helplessly — 

"Does she, now..." 

"I did not expect to get so good, so soon," Aramis says, and looks at him with wide eyes. "I love you very much, my Kitos." 

Kitos brings Aramis's hand up over his pounding heart — 

"Oh..." 

"I love you. I need you. I'll keep you — keep you forever." 

"Yes?" 

Kitos nods and kisses Aramis's palm. "Let's eat."

Aramis eats exactly like a growing boy, which means he's still left staring in awe at what Kitos is packing away once he's done. 

Kitos will always love an innkeeper who doesn't have to be spoon-fed the obvious, when it comes to how much they should feed Kitos. He *isn't* a penniless overgrown backwoods child anymore — he damned well *has* the coin to fill his belly. 

"My Kitos is angry?" And there are *lightly* callused fingertips on the little bit of his cheek that isn't bearded. 

And — Kitos is blinking. Pausing, with his spoon halfway to his mouth — 

"Oh, no, no, *eat*!" 

"Mm, I —" Kitos *eats* the spoonful, and the next, and the *next* — 

Thinks about what Aramis had said — 

And... 

"*Now* my Kitos is *rueful*," Aramis says with pleased assurance. He likes knowing him. 

He — 

Kitos warms, all through, as he sops up the last of the stew with the good, soft bread. 

Aramis hums and goes back to putting braids in Kitos's beard. It —

"You should — mm." Kitos licks his lips and takes a deep drink of ale. "You should let me check to make sure I didn't get any food caught in there —" 

"My Kitos is a very *neat* eater, even with a squirmy boy on his lap —" 

"I —" 

"And I think he already *knows* this." And Aramis *looks* at him. 

Kitos laughs. "I do, you've caught me, beauty. Lovely little —" He growls and kisses Aramis again — 

"Mm!" 

Again — 

"Mm-hm, mm-hm, mmmm..." 

He takes *over* that pretty little mouth with his tongue, tastes it all over and *then* fucks it slow, fucks it *hard* — 

Aramis *shakes* — 

Reaches up to cup his face — and pushes him. 

Pushes?

Kitos grunts and pulls back fast. "Aramis? What's wrong, little beauty? Was I hurting your sweet mouth?" 

Aramis shakes his head, licking his lips and petting his beard and obviously trying to catch his breath. 

"Then... did you want a different kiss? I —" 

"You must tell your Aramis why you were angry before! And then rueful!" And he's still panting a little — 

*Flushed* — 

*Hard* — 

Kitos is *blinking* — and thinking about how the rest of his family doesn't let him get away with anything, either. 

Not anymore. 

Kitos smiles and lifts Aramis — 

"Oh —" 

"Are you comfortable?

"I am, but you must tell —" 

"I will, I will. Do you need to use the chamberpot?" 

"Not yet, my Kitos, you are so — so —" 

Kitos laughs low. "You *said* I could take care of you, little beauty, and that's exactly what I mean to do — and let you take care of me, too." 

"*Good*!" 

"Very good!" And Kitos laughs more and gets them on the bed with him on his back and Aramis sprawled atop him. He... "Are you comfortable, little beauty?" 

He grips the braided sides of Kitos's beard like reins. "Yes! *Tell* me —"

"I was thinking about all the innkeepers who *didn't* give me enough food over the years, even though I gave them the coin for it —" 

"Oh, no!" 

"I was thinking about all the innkeepers who made me *ask* for more, and point *out* that I'd paid for more, that the tip was less than they'd assumed —" 

"No, no, no!" 

Kitos growls. "And all of them were counting on my pride *stopping* me from asking, little beauty —" 

"I will kill them!" 

Kitos laughs hard enough to move Aramis *vigorously* —

He holds him still — 

Cups his hips and strokes his scarred arse — 

Aramis shivers and bites his lip. "Are my scars — you have not looked at them very closely —" 

"They — and the scars on Solomon — make me wish I'd been a lot meaner to your father —" 

Aramis frowns and looks down. 

"Oh, hey, no —" Kitos sits up and cuddles his beauty, holds him close, skin to skin, *hair* to skin, and Aramis immediately begins petting and tugging gently at the hair he isn't resting against. 

He loves it. He — 

Kitos hugs him tighter — 

"Uff — my Kitos, I should not make you comfort *me* now!" 

"I don't get to hug my brothers nearly enough, you know. Military discipline and proper *appearance*, and all." 

"Oh, no!" 

"I need to do this while I *can*, little beauty. I'm *hungry* for it. I'm *always* hungry for it," he says, and rocks his boy a little, back and forth and back — 

"M-my Kitos..." 

"Mm? Do you like this?" 

"*Yes*. But... it will put me to *sleep*." 

Kitos laughs and kisses the top of Aramis's head. And *stops* rocking. "We'll just save that for later, then —" 

Aramis giggles softly — 

"Tell me what's wrong, hey?" 

"I was wishing..." And Aramis plucks at the hair on Kitos's upper arms. "I wished that I could give my Kitos a boy as perfect as he deserved." 

Kitos can't stop himself from making a low, hurt sound — 

"I — you see —" 

"Shh, little beauty. Perfect little —" Kitos growls. "You *did* give me a perfect boy. The *most* perfect boy." 

"No —" 

"*Yes*. What would I do with a boy with no scars? A boy who hadn't *lived* in this hard old world, hey?" 

Aramis grunts — 

"That's right. I need a boy who knows what this world is *about*, Aramis. Not some pampered little idiot who only knows which jeweled slippers go with which outfit." 

"I —" And Aramis's giggles are explosive, helpless — 

And Kitos kisses the few little scars on Aramis's wrists and forearms that he *knows* his beauty got while learning the knife —

"Oh — I hoped those did not show!" 

"They don't — to people who don't know any better," Kitos says, and winks. 

Aramis giggles more — 

Lunges up to kiss him — 

To nip his lips — 

To *suck* his lips, and Kitos gives him a *hard* kiss right back, careful not to nuzzle too much — Aramis is already reddening up — but cupping that head and holding it *still* for thrust after thrust of his tongue — 

Aramis sucks and pets Kitos's beard, plays with it, reaches to push his hands into Kitos's hair — 

Hums and tries to wriggle even closer — 

Tries to rub his *face* more — 

Kitos pulls *back* —

"Mm — no? I want your *beard*, my Kitos!" 

"You're getting all red, little beauty," Kitos says, and laughs a little. "Your mum might want to stick a few blades in *me* if I bring her boy back all marked up!"

Aramis tugs on Kitos's face. "I will *tell* my mother that I have chosen you, and that you have chosen me!" And he nods. 

"I..." 

"What? She will know what this means! Give me —"

"But..."

"But *what*!"

Kitos laughs hard. "Why don't you let me rub my beard other places, hey?"

Aramis blinks — 

*Stops* tugging — 

Looks *hungrily* thoughtful — 

"Yeah, think about it, little beauty. We have lots of choices *available* to us —"

"List them! I like that game!" 

Kitos laughs more and squeezes his boy —" 

"*Mm* —" 

"All *right*. One: I rub my beard all over your belly and cock and bollocks —" 

"Oh — *oh* —" 

"While I suck you *off*." 

"That is... that is..." And Aramis pants. "What is two!" 

"*Two* is I rub my beard all over your pretty little arse —" 

"Ee — you —" 

"While I *devour* your arse. I have to admit, I'm looking forward to that —" 

"Oh — *oh* — more than you're looking forward to other things?" 

Kitos laughs. "Yes and no. Yes, because I know you're going to make some *beautiful* music for me when I do it —" 

"Fuck!" 

Kitos laughs harder and tickles his gorgeous little boy — 

"Oh — oh!" And Aramis giggles and squirms and bounces on Kitos's lap — 

Swats *lightly* at Kitos's hands, but doesn't even *try* to get away —

Kitos grins and adds this to any *number* of lists —

Aramis giggles more and throws his arms around Kitos's neck. "Please kiss me! Please *kiss* me the way you will kiss my arse!" 

Kitos *growls* and *grips* Aramis, grips him by the head and hip, kisses him *hard* — 

"*Mm*!" 

Licks him all *round* his mouth — 

"Oh — fuck — my *Kitos* —" 

Tickles his *chin* with his tongue — 

"Nuh — *mm* —" 

And then delves *in* — 

In and in and *in* — 

And Aramis is shaking in his hands, clutching at his hair and *trembling* — 

Pulling *back* — 

Kitos *releases* him — 

And Aramis beams up at him. "I will tell Maman that my Kitos takes care of me, always *listens* to me, even when his cock is *aching* —" 

"I —" 

"What is the reason you do *not* want to make love to my arse right now? Is it my scars?" 

"*No*, little beauty. It's because my beard will get musky and sweaty — and while that will be wonderful for me to smell, that's not so good for little beauties who like to *play* with my hair."

Aramis stares at him for a long moment — 

Kitos wants him back in his *arms* — 

"You are so *clean*!" 

"I —" 

"You are — you are —" And Aramis *beams*. "You will make love to my arse *last*, my Kitos. Then we will wash ourselves and — oh, but you must fuck me!"

"Aramis —" 

"You will make love to my arse, and then I will be so overcome and *loose* that you will be able to finger me open *easily* —" 

Kitos clears his throat. 

Aramis blinks and stops. "My Kitos?" 

Kitos smiles ruefully. "We're going to *start* stretching you tonight, little beauty. But you're a *virgin*. I don't think you've had anything up there —" 

"I have! There are *many* toys in brothels —" 

Kitos *coughs* —" 

"I was a very curious boy —" 

"I..."

"Hm?" And Aramis is only looking at him, head cocked and eyes bright and — 

And Kitos's cock is dripping all over this bed like the hungry idiot it is. *But*. "How... big. Were the toys?" 

Aramis eyes Kitos's cock critically — 

Then *dreamily* — 

He licks his lips as if contemplating the finest of *meals* — 

"*Aramis* —" 

"I —" And then Aramis squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head once, and takes one of Kitos's hands in his own. And presses two of his fingers together. 

Kitos blinks. 

"A *little* slimmer. And longer!"

Kitos's cock *jerks* — 

Aramis grins. "Yes? That is a *good* answer for my Kitos?" 

"It's... it's been some *time* since you were —" 

"Does my Kitos not *wish* to fuck me?" 

Kitos laughs hard. "Your Kitos wishes to fuck you *blind* — but not *tear* you." 

Aramis inhales sharply and nods. "This is well. You will stretch me and stretch me and. Mm. Mmmm. I want this! I want you to open me *wide* for you!"

"Then... we're going to need a different list," Kitos says, and laughs ruefully. 

Aramis smiles with *interest*. "Oh, yes? Tell me!" 

"I'm going to need to spend, little beauty. I... you've got me as randy as a recruit!"

Aramis beams. "Good! Tell me my choices! Is one to suck you? To suck your mighty cock and kiss it and lick it and —" 

Kitos growls and covers Aramis's mouth. Just for a moment. 

"Mm!" 

"Easy, now. Give me a moment to get myself under control."

"Mm..." And Aramis looks up at him curiously. 

Kitos smiles ruefully. "I'm hungry for you, little beauty. Very... very hungry." 

Aramis shivers — and nods. 

"Now that *is* one of the choices — two of the choices, actually — but in *one* of the choices, I stroke your pretty little cock while you're doing it —" 

"Mm!" 

"— and in the other... I start to stretch you wide. *Wait*." 

Aramis pauses with his hands gripping at the hand Kitos has over his mouth. 

"Just wait. Don't say anything but one, two, or 'tell me what my other choice is'. All right?" 

Aramis nods once. 

Kitos moves his hand — 

"Tell me what my other choice is!" 

"I thrust against you again, little beauty. This time with you *under* me. You'll be... shadowed. *Loomed* over. *Crushed*." 

"Ohh." 

"Yeah? Do you like that?" 

Aramis licks his lips. "I *loved* you thrusting against me, my Kitos! And I think it would be even better if you were over me..." 

"I'd *have* to... give you more of my weight..." And Kitos cups Aramis's shoulders, strokes down his lean, muscled arms — 

Strokes round to his back — 

Cups and pulls him *close* again — 

"Oh, yes, my Kitos, yes — but..." 

"Mm? Tell me. Tell me, little beauty. I need you now," Kitos says, and squeezes Aramis's lean hips. 

Aramis *moans*. "I want to *taste* you. I — you have been *riding*. You have not — I have not given you a chance to wash *properly* —" 

"That — that's right, and —" 

Aramis laughs breathlessly, laughs like an *older* boy — "I do not think you will give me many chances to *experience* this, my Kitos," Aramis says, and gives him — 

Gives him a *coquettish* look — 

Kitos *growls* — 

Kitos strokes Aramis all over, just — 

Just *gives* himself Aramis's beautiful little body — 

"Oh, yes — oh — oh, but my Kitos, you must let me *please* you —"

Kitos *growls* again — "You *are*," he says, and cups Aramis's tackle in one hand, squeezes *carefully* — 

"Oh, *yes*!" 

"So *beautiful*," Kitos says, and keeps squeezing while he strokes Aramis all over, while he caresses — 

His thighs his hips his chest — 

His small nipples — 

"Please! Please!" 

Kitos pinches Aramis's left nipple, starts squeezing his tackle *rhythmically* —

Aramis *yells* —

*Grips* at him — 

*Pleads* with his beautiful *eyes* — 

Kitos *pants*. "Do you not want to spend, yet, little beauty? It would. It would please me..." 

Aramis *groans* — 

Shakes all *over* — 

*Trembles* and *bucks* into Kitos's gripping hand — 

"That's it, that's just right, little beauty, let me make you spend all over my hand, let me... let me take care of you right and proper —" 

"My — my —" 

"*Yours*," Kitos says, and *pumps* Aramis's tackle while rubbing his roughest calluses on his hard little nipples — 

So tight and ripe as peaches — 

Kitos wants to *bite* — 

Aramis *sobs* — 

Kitos's cock jerks and spatters both of them — 

*Aramis's* cock jerks over and over again, and he's leaking slick out from between Kitos's fingers, dripping onto the *bed* — 

"You're such a good boy, such a good, beautiful —" Kitos pumps again and *drags* his callus over Aramis's nipple — 

Aramis *wails* — 

Stares into Kitos's eyes and *wails*, working his beautiful hips over and over — 

So sweet — 

So fast and so — 

Kitos squeezes just a little bit harder — 

Aramis wails again — 

Jerks and *spends* — 

"Good boy, good little — oh, you're so *perfect* —" 

"Please — I —" And Aramis sobs and spurts again — 

Again — 

Sobs — into Kitos's *mouth*, because Kitos has to kiss him while he works him, has to hold him tight with his other arm, has to kiss him deep and soft and so — 

Deeper when he moans — 

When he *clings* —

His perfect *boy* — 

Eventually, Aramis starts kissing him back, and it's all Kitos can do not to give in to Aramis's obvious desire for him to nuzzle and grind his beard right in — 

He bites Aramis's soft lips, instead — 

"Mm!" 

Bites them *twice* each — 

"Mm! Mmm..." 

And then sucks them — 

"Mm-hm!" 

And then pulls back —

"No, my Kitos, more, more!" 

"*Absolutely* more. But..." He flares his nostrils. "I need a taste." 

Aramis blinks — and looks down at Kitos's messy hand wrapped loosely round his tackle. And then looks up again. "You will not simply wash?" 

Kitos laughs. "I'm not *completely* — hm... fixated on neatness, little beauty," Kitos says, and brings his hand to his mouth — 

And tastes —

Sweet. Musky. Thin. *Young* — 

Fuck — 

He cleans his hand fervently, desperately, *enthusiastically*, and feels *exactly* like the deviant he *is* — 

Usually he's drunk beyond the *telling* of it when he goes with boys — 

And he ought to tell Aramis that — 

"What? What is it?" 

— too. 

Kitos laughs around the fingers in his mouth and tilts Aramis's face up just a little more — 

"There is something wrong; you must tell me —" 

"Mm." Kitos tugs his fingers out. "There's nothing wrong with *you*, little beauty. You're the most delicious..." Kitos licks his lips. "Want to taste you all night..." 

"Oh. But —" 

"*But* — you taste *young*. And I got to thinking about how I only knew what 'young' tasted like when I was picking up boys before —" 

"Yes, of course!" 

"And how I only *did* that... when I was very, very drunk." And Kitos looks at Aramis. 

Aramis blinks at him. "You... you are *not* drunk!" 

"Not at all."

"Then..." Aramis frowns.

Kitos cups his cheek and grins. "You're too incredible to resist. Even with all my controls in place. I was realizing that all over again with all your *tastes* in my mouth." 

Aramis *grunts* — "Give this to me!" 

"What —" 

"Give me *your* tastes, your flavours —" 

Kitos growls and — no, no — "Am I tossing you off? Mm? Or am I —" 

"Open me! Open me wide, make me *ready* — *mm*!" 

Kitos keeps Aramis's mouth covered as he moves him to the head of the bed — 

Then gets *off* the bed, himself — 

"No, no —" 

"Shh, little beauty, have to get the oil, now —" 

"*Oh* — I apologize! I was not thinking!" 

Kitos laughs and retrieves the oil from his saddlebag. "That means I've been doing my *job*." 

"I am your *job*?" 

"You're a million times better than that. You're my *boy*. My *responsibility*," Kitos says, and climbs right back onto the bed, with his back to the headboard — lieutenants for the King's Musketeers get the best, whether or not they're gentry. "Now come —" 

"A responsibility is better than a job?"

Kitos laughs and beckons. "A man with responsibilities always has someplace to go, little beauty. A man with responsibilities is always *needed*." 

And Aramis's eyes are *wide* — "I will *always* need you!" 

Kitos hums. "And need me to take good, good care of you?" 

"Yes, my Kitos!" 

"That's my little beauty. Now turn facing me — yeah, like that —"

"I will taste you now?" 

"Almost. *Almost*." 

"When!" 

"When I'm *inside* you, little beauty. When my finger's nice and *deep*." 

Aramis's cock *jerks*, lifting right up again — 

And Kitos grins. "Good boy. Bend right over and put your head in my lap. You can *kiss* my cock — *lightly* — but nothing else, hey?" 

"*Yes*, my Kitos!" And Aramis wriggles right into position, holding Kitos's cock with both hands — 

Holding it to his already-swollen *lips* — 

Kissing and kissing and — 

Kitos growls. "You're so..." He growls more. "Do you like it, little beauty? Do you like the taste?" 

Aramis nods vigorously, *dragging* his soft lips — 

Kitos jerks and *pants* — and turns away, for the sake of his *equilibrium*. 

Nothing has ever — 

No pouty-lipped pretty boy has ever made him this — 

This — 

He can't — 

His cock is jerking over and over and *over* again — 

Aramis is making soft, hungry little — little *pleased* sounds — 

Kitos grunts and pulls him back, pulls him up, kisses him *deep* again — 

"MM —" 

Pulls back — "I'm too hot, too hard, too — I need you too much, little beauty —" 

"Have me! Have me in every *way*!" 

"Oh fuck —" And Kitos laughs and kisses down to Aramis's throat — 

Lifts Aramis to make it easier — 

Kisses and sucks and suckles and — 

Fuck, such a delicious *boy*. 

Is this what life is like for Fearless all the time? 

*Can* it be? 

But he doesn't *love* all his boys, all his beauties, and Kitos is drowning, hungry, desperate — 

He lifts Aramis *higher* — 

"*Ai*!" 

He grips Aramis's hips — 

Aramis grips his *hands* — 

And he slurps Aramis's cock and bollocks into his mouth, everything, all of him, sucks and mouths and cleans them, has them, nibbles and *suckles* — 

"KITOS!" 

He hums and sucks *hard* — 

Aramis bucks and bucks and *shouts* — 

And Kitos can *crush* those bollocks up against Aramis's cock with his tongue, suck and suck and hum *louder* — 

Aramis grips him by the hair and screams — 

Does his best to ream Kitos's *face* — 

Kitos helps him, *slams* those little hips against himself again and again — 

Again and again — 

Aramis gasps and sobs — 

*Wails* — 

Wails so — 

And then he's spurting again, spurting for him, spurting so sweet, so fresh, so salt and young and musky and — 

Kitos is growling, drooling, sucking and slurping — 

He needs it all — 

He needs his *boy* — 

Aramis sobs *again* — 

Slumps — 

Oh... 

There's no more. 

There's no *more*... 

And he can set his beauty down, let him rest, pet him, caress him, rub at the reddened marks all over his groin — 

The fingertip marks on his hips — 

The dazed and *drunk* smile on his *face* as he moans and focuses on *nothing* — 

Kitos's fingers are *shaking* — 

"Oh, my *Kitos*!"

Kitos *swallows* — 

"Almost I do not wish to *grow*! That was — that was — oh, my Kitos, you are *amazing*!" 

Kitos — *pants*. And grips his own cock hard before starting to stroke. He can't speak. He can't look away. He can't stroke *slowly*. 

"My Kitos? Why —" And Aramis focuses on him *immediately*. "Oh. Oh, you are so *hungry*." 

Kitos groans and strokes faster, *faster* — 

Aramis sits up, kneels up — 

Pushes Kitos until Kitos sits on his heels — 

And covers Kitos's hand on his cock with both of his own. He — 

"I can't stop, beauty. I can't — not now." 

Aramis moans, low and sweet. "Can... can my Kitos give me... the head?" 

Kitos's cock *spasms* — 

He *groans* — 

He strokes carefully, *carefully*, always leaving the head free of his fist, and — 

And Aramis *immediately* drops and *sucks*, *trying* to take the whole head in and *failing* — 

Kitos thinks he must sound like a *beast* — 

Like *more* of one than Fearless *ever* does — 

But Aramis is *sucking* kisses all over the head, slurping kisses, *nibbling* kisses and periodically trying to take the whole thing — 

Moaning and growling — 

Sucking almost — 

Almost *desperately* — 

Kitos is shivering like a *horse* — 

Leaking all over Aramis's beautiful face and the bed and his own belly and he can't stop, he can't *stop* — 

He's cupping Aramis's face — 

Pressing *gently* on the hinges of his jaw and looking a *question* into his eyes — 

Aramis nods and nods and Kitos *presses* — 

Aramis *takes* him — 

Moans and *takes* him — 

Drools and slurps and sucks and looks *drugged* again, *dazed* and — 

So hungry — 

He moves his hands off Kitos's and reaches for Kitos's bollocks instead, hefting and *squeezing* — 

Kitos *shouts* — 

He has to squeeze himself *brutally* to keep from *thrusting* — 

"It's so — you're so good, you're so bloody *good*, my boy, my beauty, do it again, do —" 

Aramis squeezes *hard* while *stabbing* at Kitos's slit with his tongue and everything *ignites* in Kitos, everything *burns* — 

This — 

This perfect *boy* — 

Kitos is groaning and *spilling* — 

And Aramis is sucking and slurping and moaning and *squeezing* him, working him, *taking* him — 

God, *wanting* him, and Kitos is giving Aramis everything now, spurting all over that pretty little mouth, spilling out of the corners when he can't swallow fast enough, and Aramis *grips* his cock when Kitos starts to pull out — 

Just — just to give him *air* — 

He's still sucking just as hard as he *can* — 

Slurping him *down* — 

Kitos pants and groans more and pets Aramis, loves him with his hands, *gives* him what he *wants*. "I love you." 

Aramis groans and starts licking him — 

Kitos shudders, sensitive enough to wince a little — 

And *then* Aramis pulls off. 

And does his best to lick up all the spend he'd spilled. 

He — 

Kitos pulls him right onto his lap and *feeds* him that spend, two fingers-full at a time — 

"Oh, mm! Yes!" 

He makes sure to get *every* spatter — 

"Yes — mm — oh, yes —" 

Waste not, want not — 

"Oh, my Kitos, I love you so much!" 

And then he has to hug Aramis, just hug him — 

"Uff —" 

Hold him close and rock him and —

"No, no, I do not wish to sleep!" 

Kitos laughs ruefully. "It's starting to be a good idea..." 

"I..."

And Aramis is silent for long moments. 

*Long* moments — 

And then there's the tiniest of sounds — but Kitos has had charge of the recruits for some time now. He knows a disguised yawn when he hears one. 

Kitos laughs quietly. 

"My *Kitos*..." 

"We have long days of travel ahead of us, little beauty." 

"But —" 

"And more inns along the way..." 

"Oh." 

Kitos laughs more and pets and strokes his little beauty. "You make me the happiest man in the world." 

Aramis wriggles enough to look up at him. It's a *serious* look — a *studying* look — and Kitos sits still for it. 

He knows, he thinks, what his little beauty needs. 

After a time, Aramis nods with satisfaction. "You *are* happier than you were earlier." 

Kitos smiles helplessly. "You could make a graveyard full of mourners dance themselves sick, little beauty." 

Aramis reaches up to wrap his arms around Kitos's neck. "I think that this is you, my Kitos. My big, hard man who rescues sad children and abused horses and brings them to better worlds."

Kitos's heart hurts. It — no. He settles Aramis comfortably on his lap and carefully massages his jaw. "The King's Justice and Peace mean nothing if only the King gets to have 'em, hey? So Laurent made sure to recruit men — and recruit men who *would* recruit men — who would find ways to spread all that around. It didn't take long for me to see that you would be just the same." 

Aramis looks at him with shining eyes — 

Kitos grins and winks. "That's right, don't try to smile, yet. I have to take care of you." 

Aramis nods, and tilts his head back to make it easier.


	4. Every prudent man considers insurance.

Riding through Paris with Aramis at his side is...

Kitos isn't sure he has the words for it. 

Fearless is the one who stays up all night with his nose in poetry books and he *still* trips over his own doggy tongue half the time. 

Kitos... 

Well, right now, he's afraid, thrilled, proud, happy, full of *dread*, rueful... and about a thousand other things, besides. 

He's done his duty — and neither Aramis *nor* Solomon, surprisingly enough for a horse his age, had slowed him down one bit when all was said and done — and delivered all of Laurent's meticulous reports to Desmarais. *That* poor bastard has been running interference between the regiment and the royals this whole time they've been away, and — 

And one day it'll be Fearless's job. 

*Something* help him. 

But... that would've taken care of *one* of the things that's been driving him mad. 

That *is* driving him mad. 

He has to do his duty by the boy riding at his side — on a fresh new black from the hostler's closest to the garrison by the name of Viviane.

Kitos may not be able to give him a black from the *regiment's* stables, yet, but — 

"My Kitos is troubled. I do not know why he has chosen to deny his Aramis his care —" 

Kitos *coughs* — "What?" 

"My Kitos *usually* gives his Aramis his thoughts, his feelings —" 

"Right, but —" 

"He does not usually let his Aramis stew and pine and wonder what he has done wrong," Aramis says. Pointedly. 

Kitos licks his lips. 

Sweats. 

Sweats *more* — 

Aramis *looks* at him — 

"It's only — you're not going to *like* what I'm thinking —" 

"Ah, my Kitos is thinking about giving his Aramis *away* again." 

Kitos *grunts* — 

He feels like he's been *stabbed* — but. 

"All right, that's exactly what — I can't do that. I could never bloody do that." 

"No?" 

"No." 

"Not even 'for my own good'?"

"I —" 

Aramis looks at him *hard*. 

Kitos licks his lips — and decides to try something else. "It's hard to heat my stables in the winter, you know. I often spend *most* of the winters at Fearless's or Laurent's —" 

"I will go where my *Kitos* goes. *Always*." 

"I." 

Aramis's look gets *harder*. 

"We usually... don't bring the recruits with us during —" 

"I will go. Where my Kitos. Goes. *Always*." And Aramis's eyes are hot and *dangerous*. He doesn't *quite* have his free hand on the hilt of the dagger they'd picked up for him on the road, but —

But, in truth, Kitos knew he had lost that battle the *first* day. 

It was time to admit it. 

"Right you are, Aramis —" 

"I believe..." And Aramis narrows his eyes thoughtfully —

Checks their perimeter *expertly* — he'd gotten accustomed to doing it from horseback *quickly* — 

"I believe my Kitos needs to *see* that I will not leave him for the first 'more beautiful' man who comes along." 

Kitos blushes *hard*. 

*Realizes* that he's been making Aramis *faithless* in his mind — 

That — "I'm sorry — I don't mean —" 

Aramis holds up a hand. "My Kitos has been hurt. My Kitos has been lonely. My Kitos has not had what *he* has needed, as opposed to giving his loves what *they* have needed —" 

"They were the same *things*." 

"You have *said* that they were not, my Kitos." 

"I —" 

Aramis looks at him. 

Kitos shuts his *gob*. 

Aramis nods. "More to the point, even when they *were* the same things, they were not *enough* of the same things. Not for my Kitos, who is a *big* man. A man of *appetites*," Aramis says with *relish*. 

Kitos — well, that's more of a flush. 

His *appetites* have had him all *over* Aramis this journey — 

And that won't stop anytime soon. 

That — 

Please, just let him *have* —

"What are you thinking, my Kitos?" 

"Wishing I believed in any of the gods enough to pray to them. Praying anyway," he says, ruefully, and smiles at Aramis. "Praying to keep you." 

Aramis makes a small sound. "I pray to keep my Kitos all the time. I pray to the All-Mother, who my Kitos *told* me is *real*." 

"I — well — that I did." 

"But you do not believe? Still?" 

Kitos scratches in front of his ear. "It seems hard to believe in a god — a *goddess* — who can tolerate *Fearless's* behaviour, little beauty," Kitos says, and laughs hard. "Though She does take care of him pretty good, so..." 

"This... I can see this. I was raised *mostly* free of religion at Madame Margaud's, but I still knew of the *strict* Christian god, the *cruel* Christian god —" 

"I —" 

"The *judging* and *exacting* — well. This is the god my father wished to teach me *all* about." 

Oh. Aramis doesn't usually... "Tell me. Tell me, little beauty." 

Aramis waves an airy hand. "He called himself a scholar. He was *not*. I *read* his Bibles. The Latin one he gave me and the Spanish one he kept for himself. *Hoarded* for himself." 

"Oh — wouldn't that have gotten him *killed* over the border?" 

"Most certainly. It was very valuable for this reason. He hoped to sell it for a good price. *He* should have prayed to *Mammon*." 

"Right, all right —" 

"Anyway, I meant to tell you, the New Testament, the New Covenant, tells the story of God's son, of a man who preaches love, and tolerance, and brotherhood. Of sharing what you have with the poor and sick, of opening your heart to those who are different from you — all of those who are different from you! His companions were the poor, the heretics, the whores!" 

"Uh. What?" 

"You see? No one teaches this, even though it is right there to see. I think the gods are more loving, more open, than we generally think they are." 

Kitos blinks and blinks and wonders how they'd gotten *here* — no, wait — "But you still want to pray to the All-Mother?" 

"I think, perhaps, any god who is tolerant of your Fearless will also love *me* well. We all appreciate insurance, my Kitos." 

Kitos laughs hard enough to make Hestia *snort* — 

He pats her to apologize but he can't *stop* laughing for a while — 

And Aramis is beaming at him. 

Such — 

Such a perfect boy. 

Kitos catches his breath a little and hums. "I *love* you. I... I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"And you are a man who must always have your plans in place as much ahead of time as possible..." Aramis nods. "You wish to *lose* me *quickly* —" 

"*No* —" 

"— so that you may begin the process of *grieving* *for* my loss quickly." 

Kitos grunts. 

"Who do you think will steal me away from you? Who do you *most* fear?" 

Fearless — except. That's not true, anymore. Aramis would always need a lover who could *devote* himself to him at least *most* of the time, at least *primarily*, and no one would ever take that away, for Fearless, from Amina. No one ever *could*. 

Even if Aramis *did* come to *want* Fearless, he'd never give his whole heart to the man. In part because he *does* appreciate insurance. *Guarantees*. 

A man who comes *home* at night. 

"Your thoughts are making you happier, my Kitos?" 

"I — yes. But —" 

"Keep thinking!" 

"Right, yes —" 

It would be the same problem with Reynard and Laurent. It *would*. 

It would *absolutely* be the same problem with Marie-Angelique and Amina, assuming they decided to *get* deviant that way — 

And that just leaves their handsome sons, really. 

Olivier devotes his time to training and his little brother Thomas, and that would definitely appeal to Aramis's sense of duty and his sense of *family*. But then... there's *how* he devotes his time to Thomas. 

And that...

"This looks like a very interesting thought!" 

"I um... I was thinking of your brothers Olivier and Thomas —" 

"You have ruled out the adults?" 

"I have," Kitos says, and blushes. "And I'm *sorry* I'm so —" 

"I will take no apologies. My Kitos was *injured* before he met me. His good boy will heal him." 

"I —" 

"What of the de la Fère brothers?" 

"Well, they're very... close..." And Kitos tries to think of a way to *say* it without — 

And then Aramis raises an eyebrow and lowers his chin, and — 

Kitos coughs. "Yes, well. I don't know for *certain*, you understand, but —" 

"They are closer, perhaps, than brothers by blood *should* be." 

Kitos smiles ruefully. "We've given our children *one* definition of how to be a sibling." 

Aramis nods thoughtfully. "And the last one in my age-group? Porthos?" 

"I — he's the one."

"The one you fear?" 

"Yes, but —" 

"No buts. You will take me to him, after we see my mother." 

Kitos's sweat is *cold* — but he knows who he needs to be. 

And he knows what he needs to *see*. 

"Right you are." 

"My Kitos will *know*," Aramis says, and nods. 

And — Kitos wants that. 

Kitos wants that just as much as he wants everything else *with* his beautiful boy, always *with* him — 

He tries on another few prayers while they ride.


	5. Sure, he's mumbledy years older than me and also several times my size, but —

Madame Margaud's is a house of bright, tasteful colours right in the middle of the merchants' quarter. There are a lot of guild-protected inns and taverns close by, and Paris's usual stench is that much milder. 

Pretty nice. 

They've *absolutely* never been. 

As soon as they ride into the hostler's closest to the house, the stableboys raise up a quiet cheer and a chorus of "you came back!" They don't spend *long* with the horses, but Aramis absolutely introduces him to all the ones he knows, and they feed them little treats while the horses love all over Aramis. 

His mother must have spent a *long* time scrubbing the horse off her boy every night — or. 

Maybe not. 

Maybe she'd known he needed it. 

And, by the time they walk *out* of the hostler's, she's there on the steps of Madame Margaud's. Tall for a woman, dressed and done-up perfectly — Aramis had known his mother would want a little time, maybe — with hair just a little lighter brown than her son's. 

Gorgeous. 

Golden-skinned. 

Nose a little more hawkish, but cheekbones and brow exactly the same. And her smile for her boy is wide and beautiful and so — 

There are tears on her cheeks — 

And Kitos looks away, a little, when Aramis *runs* into her open arms and takes her tight, all-encompassing hug. 

He looks back when she starts rocking him back and forth and whispering fervently in a language Kitos can't catch, and then starts kissing him *fiercely* all over his face. 

Aramis speaks vehemently in what sounds like the same language — and points at *him*. 

His mother — Claudette d'Herblay was the name she'd taken when she'd emigrated — squeezes Aramis tighter... and looks at Kitos *hard*. 

Kitos makes a *formal* leg, and then stands straight, leaving himself open for her examination. 

Aramis is still speaking vehemently, excitedly, *forcefully* — 

Claudette is responding with one or two words at a time — and studying Kitos. 

He feels like he's being *dissected*. 

He feels — 

Fearless has talked a *lot* about what it's been like to visit with Amina's guardians — and just Ife, now that Lara and Layo have passed away — and Kitos realizes that he's feeling the exact same things. 

That he's been taken *home* to meet his love's *parent* and — 

And now he's being judged for fitness. 

Fitness for a *life*-partner — 

Kitos blushes *hard* — 

And Claudette stands straight with her hand on Aramis's shoulder and beckons Kitos closer. 

Kitos obeys *smartly* — 

"What do you want with my son." 

"Everything that makes us both happy," Kitos says honestly. 

She raises an eyebrow. "Not what makes *him* happy...?" 

Kitos laughs. "Madame, if I tried that, your perfect boy would string me up by my toes. I've already learned that lesson." 

"You tried to bribe him?" 

"I tried to make him happy. To — drown him in it. I suppose part of me was thinking that he'd stay with me longer if I did that, but mostly, at the time, I was thinking that he hadn't had nearly enough happiness of his own." 

That had been their *second* night, and Aramis... had lit him up like artillery. 

Claudette narrows her eyes. "Do you believe my boy is *faithless*." 

"Never that, Madame. It's only that I'm a man with more fears than I realized I had before I met Aramis. I'm working fast and hard to *fix* them, because Aramis deserves the best."

She lifts her chin. "You will allow Aramis to *teach* you." 

Kitos blinks. "Why wouldn't I? I can't wait to introduce him to my Captain, who's the most well-read and brilliant *adult* I know. I can't imagine what we'll *all* learn from their *conversations*." 

She nods once. "Aramis says you do not normally *choose* boys for yourself. What happens when a woman — or a girl — sees you as well as Aramis does?"

Kitos blinks again — but he can't be stupid here. He can't be fearful or *small*. He swallows, and nods, and keeps his hat right over his heart when he says, "There may be others who come to care for me — love me — as much as Aramis does, but, before I met Aramis, I thought I *couldn't* love anyone more than I loved my family." Kitos smiles wryly. "My family is bigger now, Madame, and my heart is... full." 

"My Aramis is first in your heart?" 

"Yes. I will do *anything* for him." 

"Would you surrender your commission?" 

Kitos winces. "If that's what he needed of me, Madame. But I won't say it wouldn't hurt my heart badly. I think we both know that one of the reasons *why* I love him so much is *because* he wants to join my brotherhood." 

She smiles wryly and pushes her fingers through Aramis's hair before gripping it firmly. 

Aramis squeezes her *tight* — 

And she closes her eyes for a moment and sighs. "I could have made my son a whore and kept him at my side a *little* longer... but I always knew what he was meant for. And I was so afraid..." When she frowns and looks down, she looks older, *smaller* — 

"Maman, no —" 

"If I had known that man would *hurt* you —" 

"Kitos *killed* him! He did not *let* him disrespect me *or* himself!" 

Claudette *snarls*. "It should have been *me*. I should have slashed his lying throat as soon as —" And the rest of that is a growl as she wraps her arms around Aramis again and speaks fast and *hard* in that other language. 

Aramis sounds like he's agreeing, or maybe making promises. 

Kitos waits patiently, and dreams of digging Ortiz up just to *kick* his body all the way to Paris for Claudette to stomp on. 

They're very happy dreams. 

Especially the part where he brings Claudette home after and she and Amina spend the night laughing about bollocks they've stomped, slashed, stabbed, punched, or otherwise tortured over the years. 

The boys could really learn something — 

So can the girls —

And Fearless always loves meeting brutally violent and intelligent whores — 

And Marie-Angelique could *always* use more female friends, too — 

Eventually, Claudette shudders, and breathes, and stands straight again. 

She keeps her hand on the back of Aramis's neck. 

"Kitos. I..." 

"I — wait one moment, Madame?"

Claudette raises an eyebrow. 

Kitos licks his lips. "I was wondering if, perhaps — I mean, I don't know what your work-schedule is like — but I stay with my brothers — and their wives, my sisters — at least as often as I stay in my own rooms. And... I thought, perhaps, you would like to meet them." 

Claudette blinks once. 

Aramis *beams* and begins speaking *fervently* again in that other language — 

She cuts him off with a gesture. "You mean this thing." 

"I do, Madame. I think... well, I think you'll get on with the rest of my family *quite* well. I think you'll fit *in* with them —" 

"Kitos. Do you mean to *make* me your family?" And she cocks her head to the side. 

Kitos smiles ruefully. "I was one of thirteen or fourteen brothers and sisters growing up, Madame. I *miss* big families. Loud and *loving* families." 

"I —" 

And Aramis breaks in again. 

Claudette scolds him, *obviously* scolds him — 

But Aramis doesn't stop this time. Kitos hears the name 'Amina' — 

And Claudette blinks again. 

And *looks* at Kitos. 

Kitos smiles hopefully. "A boy ought to have his mother."

"This is one of the *first* things my Kitos said to me, Maman!"

Claudette raises an eyebrow. "There are many who would speak of the whore who took up residence in the noble's *manor*, Kitos." 

"Well, that's the tragic thing, mum." 

"Yes?" 

"There are so *many* accidents and disappearances in Paris every *year*," Kitos says, and shows his teeth. 

Claudette shows hers. 

Aramis shows *his* —

And Claudette nods once and reaches up with both hands to cup Kitos's cheeks and *haul* him down for a *hard* kiss on the mouth that feels as much like a threat as it feels like acceptance. "You will do. Now take me to meet these people who will be my Aramis's family."

Kitos makes a much *less* formal leg — 

Aramis *giggles* — 

And Kitos leads them all back to the hostler's.


	6. Welcome to the family.

Fearless's rooms in the city — Amina only spends enough time out to the manor as she *has* to when Fearless is in the middle of a war zone — are, technically, in an even nicer part *of* the city than Madame Margaud's, what with them being gentry and all, but the fact that Fearless had insisted on planting them *right* by a hostler — 

Well, he spends a *lot* less money than his brethren in the gentry. 

And so does *Laurent*, who'd picked rooms right by the *garrison*. 

Fearless has been trying to get rooms by the garrison big enough for his name and his *brood* for years — 

And it's possible that Kitos is getting a *little* nervous. 

For the stupidest *possible* reasons. 

Not because he'd just unilaterally decided to add *two* people to their family — to their *pack* — oh, no. 

But because he's about to introduce Aramis to Porthos, who happens to be the sweetest, kindest, friendliest, most cheerful — 

And he's bloody *huge* for a fourteen-year-old — 

And. 

Wait. 

Did he just describe *himself* as a youth?

Without quite so much of the hair and *with* a lot more colour?

"Maman, I assure you, my Kitos is not usually so cruel to his Aramis." 

"Oh, no, tricky boy? He does not usually try to hide his innermost thoughts from you?"

"Not at *all*, Maman. He most often —" 

Kitos clears his throat. 

Aramis and Claudette *look* at him from atop Viviane. 

Kitos is reasonably sure the look would take at least six inches off his height if Aramis wasn't so *fond* of it, and — 

And. 

"I was thinking of Porthos —"

"This is Amina's and Fearless's eldest son, Maman." 

"The one he fears you will love so very much that you will *lose* all your love for him?" 

"Just so." 

They look at him again. 

Kitos swallows and — barrels on. "I um. Realized something about him." 

"Something that made you realize I would *not* instantly fall in love with him, my Kitos?" 

"Well —" 

They narrow their eyes. 

He *coughs* — 

Hestia whickers — 

She's probably not laughing at him. Probably — 

"It's only... he's a lot like me. When I was a lad. That's... it." 

Aramis blinks. 

Claudette throws her head back and *cackles* — 

Kitos *blushes* — 

"Maman?" 

And Claudette squeezes Aramis. "You *did* pick a wise one, tricky boy." 

"Oh — *yes*, but —" 

"The one he feared the most? The one he feared even when all of his other fears had melted away....?" 

"Was the younger, 'prettier' version — yes, I see!" 

Kitos has never wished his beard covered *more* of his cheeks, but — 

"My Kitos!" 

Kitos smiles ruefully at his love. "Yes, little beauty?" 

"*Why* would I want the *unfinished*, *unpracticed*, *amateurish* version when I can have *you*?"

Kitos stares at Aramis like the stupid, stupid man he *is*. 

Aramis and Claudette look at him *pointedly*. 

Kitos clears his throat *again*, and turns to Claudette. "Please educate *all* our children just this way." 

Claudette laughs, low and rich. 

"As for you, little beauty?" 

"Yes, my Kitos?"

Kitos tips his hat. "The point is yours." 

Aramis beams. 

They ride the rest of the way with Aramis telling Claudette little details about the extended family, and Kitos filling in more details here and there. 

Amina has the stableboys at the hostler's by their rooms bribed — not to mention the stableboys at the garrison — so she's at the door with little Odile on her lap and a big smile on her face by the time they're halfway down the block. Odile's soft, brown curls are currently *somewhat* controlled by two ribbons on either side of her head, but they're poofing out of those ribbons like little explosions, and with the two of them in dresses with Amina's favoured bright, colourful prints, it's easily one of the happiest things he's seen today — and that's saying something.

Kitos resists the urge to pick Aramis up — right up until Aramis *looks* at him while Claudette pointedly *doesn't*, at which point he picks his beauty right up and speeds up just a little.

Just... a little. 

Claudette keeps pace easily, with a little smile on her face. 

Odile, who's only two, remembers her Uncle Kitos well enough to give his beard a *vicious* yank even as he's kissing Amina on the cheeks and mouth — 

She's still not good at being gentry, and if Fearless doesn't give a fuck, *he* doesn't, *either* — 

And she gestures them all inside before he can get the introductions out. 

"I —" 

"Inside, *inside*, like — well, not like civilized people. I *hate* all the civilized people I have met," Amina says, grinning and gesturing more fervently and backing in. "But like friends, like family. I already know *this* boy is Aramis, who will be one of my *brothers*." 

"Oh —" 

"And you must be his mother," she says to Claudette, once they're in the foyer and moving toward the study. "I am *Amina*. Please do not call me *anything* else, unless we come to be close enough to be sisters." And she grins more and raises an eyebrow. 

Claudette raises one back and smiles seemingly helplessly as they walk. "I am Claudette d'Herblay. You may call me what you wish... Amina." 

"You are cautious. I understand this. You are in the house of *gentry*, and when my sweet brother, my sweet husband, was first *dragging* me back here in his carriage? I was *very* uncomfortable. But he met me in a *teahouse*, Claudette." 

"Your Kitos met *me* in a *whorehouse*." 

"It is a *wonder* that my husband did not meet you there," Amina says, hooting and leading them into the study, where Alaire absolutely already has refreshments for them. 

"I... your husband patronizes many brothels?"

"Sit where you like please, except for the big chair — Odile is very snuggly right now and wants to stay *right on mama's hip*." 

Claudette grins. "Of course," she says, and takes the chair right *next* to the big chair. 

Kitos takes the nice, arm-less sofa with his Aramis — 

And then there's a *thunder* of footsteps and Porthos *bursts* in. "Uncle *Kitos*!" His smile is huge and broad and a kind of magnificent, and it's abundantly clear that he's looking for a way to hug Kitos while Kitos is holding a stranger. 

Which — 

"Hrm. Porthos, lad, this is my Aramis. I met him on the way back from the front. He —" 

"Just enlisted, Jeannette told me!" And Porthos grins at Aramis and sticks out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Aramis! I'm Porthos! I can't wait to be your brother!" 

Aramis blinks — 

Blinks more — 

And nods thoughtfully *while* offering his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, friend Porthos —" 

"Oh, I like that!" 

Aramis laughs — not giggles. "Do you? Good! We will be *good* friends — and brothers," he says, and clasps Porthos's forearm. 

Porthos returns the gesture and then turns to Claudette, introducing himself much more sedately and formally. 

When he's done, he turns back to Aramis. "I'm going to practice my fencing footwork, if you want to get started early...?"

Aramis turns to study him. Not to ask, just to study. 

Kitos smiles helplessly and kisses him, softly, on the mouth. "Go on, little beauty. I need to talk to Amina and your mum a bit more." 

"My Kitos will never let me go?" 

"Not for anything. Not for anything in the *world*." 

Aramis nods firmly, bites Kitos's *ear*, and then stands. "Please, friend Porthos. *Teach* me." 

Porthos blinks twice — and then grins crookedly. "*Absolutely*." 

They walk off together, and Kitos is still breathing, still happy, still — 

And *both* Claudette and Amina know exactly what he's thinking, going by the looks in their eyes. 

Claudette's is amused and sharp. 

Amina's is soft and knowing and — 

"Right, right, enough of that! Where were we?" 

Claudette sips her tea. "Amina was telling me about all the whoring her husband does, and I was going to offer solutions to this problem." 

Amina snickers wildly. "*Claudette*. My husband is a *dog* — and so am *I*," she says, and she makes her eyes gleam maroon. "I fell in love with him when he had his muzzle in the trousers of every pretty boy in France. Now that he keeps himself to his pack and our few kitchen boys and stableboys?" Amina waves a hand. "All is well." 

Claudette frowns. "You are not possessive?" 

"He is mine and I am *his*. I..." She shakes her head. "We are bound. We were not *born* shifters — we were *made* thus, by my guardians." 

Claudette grunts and rears back a little. 

"Yes, you know that magic." 

"I know that it usually does not *work*." 

"My guardians were and are *very* powerful and knowledgeable women." 

Claudette nods. "I would like to meet them." 

Amina nods back. "The one who is still alive — Ife — lives on my husband's lands in the country. Not far." 

Odile reaches up and tries to unwind Amina's head-scarf — 

Amina reaches toward Kitos — 

Kitos hands her the ragdoll that had gotten wedged between the couch and the wall — 

"MINE!" 

"Yes, *yours*, sweet babe," Amina says, and hitches her a little closer as she plays. 

Claudette watches Odile happily. "I remember when my Aramis was that age..." 

"Yes? *That* one would have gotten into *everything*." 

"Oh, yes. He ran me *ragged*," Claudette says, and smiles ruefully. "I took the medicines to keep from having another child, but..." 

"You miss it." 

"Sometimes. Sometimes very much." 

Amina rumbles. "Do not say that around the men in this pack, Claudette..." 

Kitos blushes and scratches in front of his ear — 

Claudette blinks. "Why is this?" 

"Hrr. Marie-Angelique said this, and they have been *dedicated* to trying to get her pregnant ever since." 

"I. All of them?" And Claudette *looks* at Kitos. 

Kitos smiles sheepishly. "A good woman ought to have a babe if she wants one."

Claudette turns slowly to look at Amina. "How many children do *you* have?" 

"Only four. So *far*," she says, and snorts. "Porthos is the eldest at fourteen, then Lucien is eight, then Jeannette is seven, then Odile is two." 

"Maman, *I* am two." 

"That's *right*, sweet babe." 

Odile then begins singing one of Amina's old songs from a language *she* doesn't know the name of — though she replaces most of the words with 'ba' and 'do'.

Kitos *itches* to pick her up and fly her around and then let her fall asleep on his belly. Just — for a little while. 

Before he and Aramis ride back to the front —

Just — more *cuddle* —

And Claudette and Amina are looking at him. 

"Mm? Did I miss something?"

Amina shakes her head and smiles. "He is a *good* one, Claudette. I would have picked *him* if my fate had not *braided* me to Treville." 

Kitos blushes *again* —

"I believe I can see this thing." 

"I —"

"Now. I must be a *generous* woman and let our Kitos have Odile for a time, while she is more interested in her doll than her mama..." And she eases away — 

Stands — 

And Odile continues bouncing the doll up and down and singing to her. 

Kitos doesn't hesitate. He scoops her up and carries her right to the sofa — 

Odile giggles and squeals and bounces the doll with one hand and *yanks* on his hair with the other — 

Kitos starts singing another of Amina's songs —

And, in the background, he can hear Amina saying something about a tour. 

He'll catch up to them later. 

Right now, there's a little one to cosset.

end.


End file.
